I Know Old Now

I am only beginning now to understand me
Who I am and what makes me tick
Five decades and more now, almost sixty
Am I not supposed to be a woman anymore?
Inside I am a girl
I brush my long hair and like its softness
I still crave the body of a man
I still need his touch at the deepest place in me
My eyes still look the same in the mirror
And I notice more now than I ever did.

I love more now the gentleness of the rain
I see more in its raindrops and feel more with its touch
I look into the snow crystal and see a world beyond
Mirrored and mirrored again in multiple slant and colour
I feel the depth of the fawn’s life as he lies stilled at the road’s edge
And sense the mother just beyond the grove of trees, waiting there…
I imagine more now in each glimpse of another’s life
And I understand her perception like never before.

Why then am I ousted to another spot,
Away from real life and importance and matter?
Am I now too outdated?
Because my life borders on another level that younger people avoid?
Because I do not walk the usual path?
Because the grey in my hair shows?
Because the lines in my face make younger people guilty?
Makes them wonder how they will cope when it happens to them.

But I live more now than I ever did
Even though my movements are slower and my thoughts might seem fuzzy...
There is a razor edge just beyond touch
And I often journey there.

When I walk I am glad for the body I live in
When I am still I find rest in peaceful awareness
As I breathe I am grateful for the air I take in
I feel my lungs, my breath, my life.

Cast me away then, no longer needed really
Ideas from the past redundant
Ways gone by only written now in poetry
Words and phrases lost to time
But so rich and you don’t know what you are missing!
Watch my step and even though I falter, I am
More aware now of the earth beneath my step and the mistiness of the air
I see the bird pause to watch me from the branch and I see into her soul.

Like never before now, like never before.

wishing for all of you, love and laughter always

cailin raine

Red-Light Night Of the Prairie People

The room above the bar was the cheapest we could find
We could see the filthy alley from the window, hear the grind
Of heaving, dirty bodies midst the rubbish down below,
We could see them in the moonlight, red-light ladies in the glow.

The men were darkened figures, grunting pig-like on the earth,
We closed the grime-stained window, cast our eyes towards the hearth
Where our fire made soft shadows on the multi-colored wall
And we pretended we were safe, unlike the low-life down below.

I had one clean, white-lace nightie left, the armpit carefully sewn
And I washed in the basin which had edges very worn
I glanced at the man whom I had wed, sprawled on the bed
And felt the life inside me move, like the tumult in my head.

Then the raucous laughter crept its way, up the barren stairs
And I opened the old door a crack, and brushed my golden hair
Our room was such a far cry from my girlhood fancy home…
And I turned to see the man I loved, stretch and softly moan.

How far we’d brought the wagon from the prairie’s dried dust fields!
Where no crop was left to feed us, no wheat or flour or yield
The grass was brittle underfoot, the cattle thin and starved,
We had to leave the home we’d loved, the life which we had carved.

Now these dreadful streets did mock us, where could we start anew?
I chained the door, looked out the glass, watched a black bird as it flew
She flew up to the rooftop of the highest house in town
She soared up to the chimney, and never once looked down.
　　
And then a Peace did settle, and it felt like Grandma’s lap
Where I’d rocked as a little girl, and she’d tell me, “Don’t look back!”
“Forge ahead and pray my girl, He’ll never let you down!”
Words spoken from her wrinkled face, I’ll ne’er forget the sound.

Her tender words with Irish lilt, sank deep into my bones
And I knew then with a certainty, we’d make a brand new home
The wee one there snug in my loins, shifted in her sleep
As did my man on his weary bed, lost in dreams so deep.

I blew the dripping candle out, and laid down by his side
Tomorrow we would pack and plan, continue with our ride
Towards the promised pasture where the sun and rain would give
Our future and our livelihood, our love would last, we’d live!

“Onward Christian soldiers!”, my Grandma softly sang
And as our wagon trundled on, I felt the warm, sweet rain!
My husband turned to smile at me, the drops fell from his face
And here I knew beside this man, there was no better place.

We left the red-light ladies in the dreary, dingy bar
And the day we found our homestead, we knew we’d come so far!
From the saddened prairie dust bowls, to that evil alley strife…
To these fields of grass and splendour, our new God-given life.

cailin raine

Rag River

　

　

“Rags to riches”! I always heard…and knew it was vintage talk

Never paid a lot of attention to it, but the sayings sat in my mind,

At the back somewhere and occasionally nudged,

Dusted off from a corner

And brought forth with a bit of humour and a cough

Like,"Well that's a humdinger ain't it?"

Or, "Do ya have any notion of it?"

"Skinnymerdink " was my Mom's nickname for Dad

And she would sing, "Roll a bowl, a ball, a penny a pitch!"

And my little girl refrain, "Out about the cow's tail!"

Whatever it all meant who knows, but it was a lot of fun.

Never knew a place could be called a thing like, "Rag River"

But there it was, “as plain as the nose on your face“!

A weathered, beaten sign, hanging “as crooked as a dog's hind leg“!

Swaying a bit like a drunkard headed homeward,

But readable still perched high above the bridge.

"Rag River", and I paused to take a "look-see".

The river swerved and curved and crashed,

And all along the sides were tousled reeds and weeds and rocks

Somehow it gave the impression of rags strewn all along…

Like someone had been on an immense cleaning mission

Frantic at trying to clean up a big mess.

And so the river lived out its name

Wildly mimicking the idea of rags upon rags,

And I muttered the name to myself until it became

Not an idea of trash or refuse or mess,

But of industry and admiral toil, men going “down under”

Like the song so eloquently sung by Rita MacNeil

“I never again will go down underground”!

But here was Rag River above ground and dashingly visible

Here was a river like an entity itself!

Struggle and hardship, honour and perseverance

All wrapped up in this glorious display

Mother Nature had outdone Herself! and I watched mesmerized

As her waters crashed and the rapids roared.

　　

In my mind's eye I could see Meryl Streep in "The River Wild",

Paddling ferociously against the strength of the current,

Strong brown arms sure and precise and brave

The spray casting a dewy essence all over her body

And I became the woman on the river!

And I felt the stinging cold spray on my flesh

The pulse of the current live under my canoe!

Rag River pushed against my slim wooden craft

And I soared with her essence, our souls locked

In a glorious, furious rush of life and chance and wit.

The sunlight shone equally in the glint of the river water,

And in the innermost depths of my eyes bright with daring.

We were one!, and then I felt the ease of the river…

As it slowed about the bend, and we began to drift

Together into a place of rest and refuge,

Coasting easily towards a warm, cozy eddy tucked

Behind the rocks there on the other side.

I looked up into the tenderness of the sunbeams

And knew I had gone from rags to riches.

Pure golden sunlight had seeped into my being

As Rag River had carried me along her tumultuous journey

She had shown me how to win the battle.

I had fought and I had won.

Now I could stay, on the other side.

cailin raine

Hats Off To Rita MacNeil

I wrote this piece of poetry for Rita after seeing her perform at Blyth in 1994, and I mailed it to her at Big Pond, Nova Scotia. That is all the address it took, just her name and Big Pond. I received a handsome letter back from her, thanking me for my gift of beautiful words! And she is just a beautiful woman. Nova Scotia will never be the same now. But her soul rides out along the black rock, and the Men Of The Deep will sing along with her spirit, for all eternity.

Hats Off To Rita MacNeil

Porch songs, and music from her soul
Poetry set to a mood of notes, combination of love and sadness,
And life itself, she sets us free.
Most beautiful lady!
You can laugh at yourself and find the deep, ethereal joy
In the sunrise and the waves and the black rock on the shore.
The world’s judgment does not matter, for you have learned to overcome.

I love the candid way you kick off your shoes and make no apology
Your enjoyment is a tangible thing that reaches out to me
Touches my soul
And I let you, dear, sweet woman ~ your smile is sunshine in a sad, lost world
You are not afraid to rock and roll, what surprise! What a difference you make!
I weep and I smile and I rejoice at what you give from your heart
My tears fall as I write; what could I give you in return?

I, in my tiny way, write my thoughts, and would like to someday leave my mark
To share with somebody, somewhere, somehow I might help to lessen
Somebody’s pain.
I am awed by your simple, honest beauty, so genuinely given
So valuable and tremendous, and yet so unpretentious
It restores my hope for mankind, that we may still learn to love, share, and forgive
And strive to be better.

I bow in gratitude to you and I will keep the melody
Part of the creative and loving artistry of music that you weave
Within my mind and my heart
To remind me of your humble soul that gives with no restraint
But with courage and with love.

In memory of Rita MacNeil

with utter admiration, cailin raine

Trails

When I was a very little girl my family went on a picnic at a huge park
There were magical, winding trails that led you by tiny cabins and fairies
It was a charmed and make-believe world and I was totally captivated
There were places where the signs said to tiptoe and I found it easy to obey
My parents must have let me go off alone, which meant it was not far from them
But I felt all alone in the universe and enthralled beyond words, I needed none.

At a bend I was tiptoeing, having read the sign, and then glanced up at a house
The lady who lived there was looking out the window and smiling at me
Years later I had to think that I was likely a cute little sight, brown ringlets
Elated grin, eyes alight with enjoyment, unfettered glee in just “being”
I was surprised to find someone actually living in this enchanted forest
But it did not spoil my fascination with the fairies and the imps and squirrels.

Years later, I realize that I was born with this utter love for trails, forests
Any pathway, for me is and forever will be irresistible, enticing, necessary
I must ramble along it and find where it goes, what surprise is beyond…
Around the next curve there may be a bubbling spring or a tiny bridge
A doe or a buck or a fawn perched and ready to run, hesitating then
Because they feel no danger from me, only my utter love and delight
With the ways of the forest and of the animals who make their home
Amongst the kind, leaning trees that seem to whisper of magic.

cailin raine

Angels Holding Hands

　

I look across my pillow and see angels holding hands

Their wings are interlocking and their light shines down in bands

Their faces smile and joined as such they form a lovely circle

And I supported in their arms enjoy them in the middle.

I feel so very cherished to be at their holy centre

And vow to live my life renewed and do a whole lot better

I know that I have slipped and fell, been lifted up on wings

But when my heart is heavy, my angel stoops and sings.

The music then is sweet and pure and rings within my ear

I no longer have the weight of this world's strife to fear

For my angel's voice is mighty, yet soothing, full of light

He sings of love and happiness, of all things good and right.

He sings until my heart is full of purity and love

And I can face the world again and remember Him above

The road is long and many times I've wanted to give up

But angels come and minister, they stay with me and sup.

We drink until my body rests, my soul again set free

And I can soar above the clouds with angels helping me

I rest upon their lovely wings, nestled in downy white

And when I must, come back to earth and try to do what's right.

Every now and then I know I'll see them at my bed

And know they've come again to wipe away my fear and dread

I bathe in His own glory as their light shines down in bands

When I look across my pillow and see angels holding hands.

cailin raine

Valentine Hearts

Forever hearts wrapped in Valentine paper

Clumsy attempts at love ~ we were so young

Then… hearts joined with white organdy and flimsy lace

Red roses to represent the true love we shared.

Years later, hearts still together ~ but a little weary

Around the edges, blurred a bit by time

And holding hands.

Now a few gray hairs, but worn hearts still joined

In gratitude for all the years spent as one

And we are not so far from the young lovers

Of yesterday.

Tomorrow

One heart may have to go and one might stay

But still they will be joined by some unfathomable Force

Still wrapped in Valentine paper… which has grown

So very strong.

One heart will leave for a time… then the other will follow

Reach for me across the veil, as you lifted the veil years ago

And I will be there with you.

cailin raine