Poems - JP Melville

One day, in a land far, far away, Bhutan… memories jp melville Stillness. The heat basks among us, the sunlight dances in the doorway of our mud and wood house.   The scent of dust in the air.   Somewhere high above the towering mountains blue skies stretched, scattered with white cloud.   A motionlessness penetrating the forest from above the house etching all around us down to the river below. Who were we then?   Somewhere, elsewhere, she not there in that moment, a woman with whom I was then living. Herself now a memory.   My son, who tonight as I write this sleeps in my bed with his books spilled around him.   My daughter, also with me tonight, fast asleep in her own room, who then upon this memory was in utero, to join us in time to come. And Pema. I sat in the doorway of our house, my feet on the landing, my back leaning against the hinges, absorbing warmth, listening to the buzzing of flies, sipping my sweet tea, wat...

Newfoundland and Ontario for Shirley 1993 jp Sunlight dancing on pond waters Trilliums splashing white and purple on a forest floor Sparrow singing on the fence post all day long While I dig in garden soil. Then I stand, surveying, hold tightly to a gift of patience... angry… my thoughts distracting me. Hard work, hopes, dreams, blunted fingernails, swollen bellies fish, sea, deep snow, moose, tractors, cattle, potatoes, lumber mills, pulp the mines the seals the fox the sweat the rock wealthy vs labourers them vs them and we the damned middle the self righteous class... Tradition raped by progress: our cod liver pills, our Hibernia oil, our computer paper our potato seed virus free, our animal protection rights. And now we advocate tourism for economic development: ‘Why, those folk have such friendly ways out there on the rock...’ When I understand my heart bleeds... though I survive still my heart bleeds... ...

These Sky Signs 22 july 2016 jp melville Stillness. Early evening. Warmth whispers on soft perspiration of our skin. Flutter whirr of dragonflies choreographed feasting. Sparkles of sunlight dancing off their wings. My daughter sleeps on the wooden deck. Dog stretched out beside her. Their solitude played in operatic chorus of forest, trees, light, sky. Their souls uplifting in gentle arms. Movement without movement. Inestimable lightness of being. Look to our right in the western sky now pure blue. Look to our left in the eastern sky vestige of tufted cloud. These sky signs tell us cool north will slide down upon with dusk. I sit here in one place. These things I see and hear. I sit here in no place. Dissolving... Where are my daughter and her companion gone?