Follow by Email

Thursday, January 23, 2014


My fathers haiku

spirits climbed away
beside the Great Speckled Bird
carrying a soul

a father passed on
native spirits slowly rise
with a legacy

the Great Speckled Bird
graced my father with a ride
up to the heavens

holding hands so calm
a father’s journey will end
beside three children

my stomach is tight
longing for one more phone call
my father passed on

tonight I miss you
for this would have been our talk
sorely missed parents

although you have passed
your loving spirit remains
my heart proudly beats

one life has ended
a new life in Baptism
life events in change

I grow weak at times
when my heart is in longing
your smile remembered

you left in person
you left behind a spirit
you left me faithful

we try to tribute
your long life and legacy
an image of joy

my day was in joy
success in every way
I know you looked down

you threw a baseball
awkwardly I threw it back

my dad taught me well


Young and Brave

I feel so small
our Medicine Man called me brave
and gave me a leather band
with a special feather to wear
except when sleeping

he said I must follow his words
respect birds who fly over us
see what they see
floating through the sky

feel their freedom to move
take only what your heart
tells you to need
let others know pleasure
share when there is not enough
feast when all can feast

our ways and spirits
know the earth's soul

I am a brave so be brave
look to warriors for strength
look to your chief for respect
when you feel lost or hurt
seek knowledge and guidance
from a Medicine Man

Tuesday, January 21, 2014



The summer before the cat died,
she clumped up and down the stairs,
an old woman with arthritis,
and gave long, longing looks
into the garden.  We took her outside,
let her brush against iris and daffodil,
snooze on the unmowed grass, let her dream
of chasing birds again, and climbing trees.
Then she woke up startled, needing to be loved.
We gave her cheesecake for her birthday,
chicken hearts, and vitamins.
All that summer, we remembered her as a kitten,
the colour of freestone peaches.
We didn’t know she’d live with us for years,
familiar and strange.

Next summer Peaches was dying,
though for months she ate sunshine and rain.

Ellen S. Jaffe

Sunday, January 5, 2014


Wolves Fishing

My red cheeks tingling on this
brilliant and vibrant Fall day, 
I Kneel by the waterside, 
inhaling the crisp, nipping 
and fragrant currents of air. 

I am captivated by 
the pink backdrop of the golden 
setting sun, as the musical stream  
recounts its never ending lyric:
rushing, running, rippling,
hypnotic, gurgling water. 

Yes...closing my eyes
I hear and see 
the most perfect unity
in my solitude and stillness.

An instantaneous flash!
Loud cackles and laughs...
my gaze turns skyward as
Raven alights on 
the naked branch.

I am spellbound by the
dancing, playful, and shadowed 
ever changing Wolves 
fishing for Salmon
in the cold, rocky shallows.