Not Just the Snow

not-just-the-snow-has-fallen-wtrppr
Not Just the Snow – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

I am going off to war
to a far place.
I have never been
away from my village.
well here I am.
the sun is the same
but nothing else is recognizable.
we have our orders
and we begin to ascend the hillside
we are to engage the enemy—
what enemy?
how can a foe be someone I’ve never seen?
progress is slow
trudging through this incline of rock
and newly fallen snow.
a sharp whistle
rings through the air,
I cannot breathe.
I fall without warning
my legs have left me
I turn to get up
but I cannot
I see my blood pour into the snow
sounds are faint
and
I am growing cold
the air is thin.
I cannot tell you
how I wish I were home
next to the hearth
while you carefully place the trivet.
I try to breathe
my chest gurgles
your beautiful hair
the smell of scones
my brothers charging all around me now
that strange whistle again
a soft thud near me
oh the fragrant tea
if it could warm me now
you’re humming old favorite aires.
why am I here
I forget
did I ever know?
how was our love
not enough?
it was for us.
I cannot keep the tears away
I am thinking of you,
after all
I am here to ‘keep
our way of life’
to shutter you from
the hate
and aggression,
but I have failed,
my day was lost
before I hit the snow
if I could but kiss your face…
instead I see the lights going out
all around me
friends are falling
how will we keep
the world safe
I hear faint crunching boots
but I am weak,
my face is pressed into the cold
at their feet.
will I see you again
my love?
my prayer is whispered
faint swirls of vapor barely escape
my lips,
a quick sip of tea
and I will gather with my fallen comrades.
so when I’m gone,
please keep me in your heart,
for not just the snow has fallen.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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Blue Days

blue-sky
Blue Sky – © 2006, Patrick Canganelli.


blue like the sky
blue like my mood that comes and goes
blue like the marble planet we call earth,
the ocean on a bright day
or the kind of true I want to be,
someday I will paint the canvas
tall and wide—
the palette will be
blue.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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Time Has Stopped

� 2006, Patrick Canganelli.
Time Has Stopped – © 2006, Patrick Canganelli.

 

time has stopped
and
the stars of heaven are reflected in the water.
the river is not flowing
it is transformed into a mirror.
but I can peer into its depths
past the surface,
and I see the stars have become mica dust
spilled all through the motionless stream
the stones in the bed are rare clouds
between the sparkles
and
I can no longer discern
where heaven and earth are separated.
I am caught in between
the sky
and the depths,
I feel as if my soul
is a conduit.
I do not want the old mill wheel
to begin again
but I know it will.
soon the momentum in our hearts
will push upon the paddles
upstream
and the mill
will start up again
we will become as grist
speckled with mica
and thrown across the stream.
we, transformed,
will be the
reflection
of the stars
and we will be strewn amongst
the rocks,
there for other timeless travelers
to
marvel at.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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The Greater Prize

drawing of a simple light cone
Light Cone – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

 

the packets of time
once free flowing
are compressed,
but my life
has purchased a great spoon,
and I will set about to stir
the galling packets
and
play mischief with
the arrow of time,
I will not obey the direction,
or take note of the outcry.
I stir the cauldron
and I am oblivious to the chaos
I will stay outside the light cone
I will inhabit
the vast elsewhere
and I shall
hear eons of music played
all at once
every note that you and I have imagined.
if you wish to run with me,
you must abandon
everything,
then pick up the spoon and give a stir—
watch
the arrows and their muddled vectors
swirl
a great soup
of every instance,
never imagined side by side
but obscured by our
newfound hobby.
there will be a serious comeuppance
but you and I will be unavailable for
the forfeits.
we will have our eyes
on the greater prize.
turn now
walk with me
as we enter paradise.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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The City of Prayer

marble
Marble Dream – © 2020, Patrick Canganelli.

 

Two eyelet wounds
ground to enlightened opulence,
see in the marble
the frozen, crushed lives
of thousands,
preserved forever.
The architect sees,
but does not hear
the carbonate voices
dug into deep trenches,
gurgling up their
sounds in enchantments;
the narration of the past
which looms above us all,
the legacy of vertical and horizontal
prayer.

(Excerpted from The Noumena, page 23, © 2007, Patrick Canganelli, available at Amazon.com.)
© 2007 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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We Travel the Sky

lattice-and-spectrum
Lattice and Spectrum – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

 

so in our youth we travel the sky
and
grow to find our passports to
the stars,
souls criss-cross time and space
in one countless moment,
but truth is trapped inside the hidden dimensions.
my roadmap only talks of galaxies
and the hot molten spheres
still generating precious metals—
where is even the
briefest hint
of how we collapse into
our inner selves?
I have searched far and wide
for a spell
to take me
to where you and I have always known
what matters.
shall I
beseech a vortex
to open up
and swallow us all
and latch
the hate behind us
our inner place has no unkindness
I wish to zoom down to the bonds between
the lattice,
I will reach out to everyone
our arms will form the most magnificent crystal,
formed of love,
our new structure
will be impenetrable
and we will set about
to latch onto
everyone
every single brother and sister
I will only see
our outstretched arms
and marvel at
the color of
the crystal as it
fans into the spectrum of God.
there is no limit
if we can but peer deep down
into the hidden places
they
shall
not
be
hidden
anymore,
and the crystal will
be us, and the stars
and galaxies,
and we will
fill the void
from now
‘til
ever more…

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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The Summit

colored pencil on Bristol board.
To Leave My Door Ajar – © 2009 Patrick Canganelli.

Still transcending
A thousand moments
My mind has sailed;
Carried off to a place or two
Where rest makes quiet
The shivering platitudes within.
Engaging my longings
With a swelling power,
The incidents passing
Without the regret
I’ve left for others,
I have stood still
Too often to count
Among the living,
So I coax
The passenger fistful
To plead my triumphs,
And bear me up
Among the pitiless;
To leave my door ajar,
By grieving only
The fleeted memories
I’ve left to encounter.

(taken from The Noumena, available at Amazon here.)

© 2012 Patrick Canganelli.

My Prayers are Inscribed

glitter on construction paper
With Sparkling Warmth – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

my prayers are inscribed between the lines
and in the praise enfolding all the stanzas.
dew drops sliding from the tender points
of leaves
are the ticks my heart beats
waiting to hear
His name.
But as suddenly as the rain stops,
it picks up again,
a deafening shower
of voices.
have we all finally come to this one place
deep in the rain forest
where slender stalks push up to the sun?
and when we reach the top
we are filled from top to toe
with sparkling warmth
from the songs of heaven.
we become the canopy
the sun is a blanket on our heads
our feet are planted in the soil
so we will grow together
and we will form voices
great harmonies destined to ring throughout the verdant boughs.
when night falls
we reflect.
and then the sun shall return
and renewed singing will generate a bio-dome
filled with love-
yes, a bio-dome
filled with love!

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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There is a Place

photo taken at Clegg Memorial Gardens.
In Emerald Green – photo © 2020 Susan Canganelli.

 

I know there is a place
where all of us are free
free to love
free to be just who we are
no judgment
no expectation
tears only of joy
I have a longing for what we can become
I desperately want that day to break tomorrow,
each evening
I drift to the place of dreams
I visit with all of you
who are ready
but what to do
for those still in anguish
We surely want all of us to wake in
a world of love
I know I do
and I know there are others,
so
let us set a time—
why not tonight—
and lie down together
in emerald green
and drift to that vast tomorrow
filled with love
and the crimson heart
and freedom for all of us
I wait for the daybreak,
please be there when I awake.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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