Hi. It’s been awhile and a few friends have wondered what’s happening. Well, it’s spring and how can I be inside writing whilst up to my elbows in dirt? One glance at the touchscreen on my laptop would trigger any virologist these days. Though apparently bacteria in the soil is good for the immune system – so I am staying healthy – outside in the dirt.
I am popping in briefly today to introduce a young poet, Anna Elzinga, whose extended family I have known for more decades than I care to admit to. Her proud grandma, MaryAnne, posted this poem on Facebook. I was stunned by the images Anna’s writing conjured and I feel confident her writing will impact many. I’m sure I’ll never view a mountain the same way.
This is the brief bio she sent:
Anna has been writing stories since she was seven, but has only recently discovered her love for writing poetry. She has enjoyed learning and improving her craft over the last couple of years. She writes from her forest home in the Kootenays where she lives with her husband, Casey. Much of her writing process consists of staring out the window at the stunning Steeples mountain range.
mountain laud
You stoic priestess
wrapped in your untarnished
robes of snow
bathing your feet in
jade lakes of galacial
holy water
with the pines as your
headpiece
and the pallid
skies your altar
What secrets do you know?
What mysteries
has the sharp wind
whistled to you
in your sun haloed temple
so close to heaven?
you sage, seraphic mediator
your rocky switchbacks
guide us
like pilgrim roads anointed
straight to the blinding face
of God.
Isn’t that lovely! I have a few more of hers that I’ll include in a future post.
Anna’s grandparents, Ray and MaryAnne, are dear friends who spent 17 years in Bujumbura, (a small African country which nestles between Congo and Tanzania), where I visited them several times. Ray climbed Mt Kilamonjaro when he turned 60 so just for fun I’ve included a touch of Africa. The video triggers lots of great memories.
Scrambled Eggs 