Art is everywhere, if you choose to look.
Lately, as the weather becomes a slightly more pleasurable each day, I am taking the opportunity to get back out on the streets of Toronto to observe what really happens here.
Last Thursday, on the way to an appointment, I was fortunate to notice something I had never seen before.
Just about any day you’ll find Ross Ward hunched over on Yonge Street tending to his art. The ‘Birdman of Toronto’ has been a fixture on these streets in various locations for well over a decade, and during each day he crafts, and sells, palm-sized birds.
Once only a hobby — this is now more than whittling — Ward carves out shapes of common birds from reclaimed wood. There is always a piece in progress, and always a small flock for sale on his concrete workspace.
Perhaps in our day-to-day journeys, we don’t look close enough at all the people. We don’t often observe enough to see art just happening here and there on our landscape. I’ve wandered this street how many times and only last week did I notice the man. I saw him again on the weekend.
Appreciating the beauty of his work, I bought a bird as a gift for someone . . . or maybe a souvenir for myself to one day remember my time in this city.
Couldn’t we all use more memorable hand-made art?
Another Day
Desiderata coffee mug
resting within reach.
Another day. Dashboard Jesus
looks out
across the 401.
Morning commute rarely fun.
GOD IS MY COPILOT
bumper sticker
signaling codependency required
to deal with the reality
of commuter traffic or life
in general. GO PLACIDLY
AMID THE NOISE AND HASTE
A need
to get to work
to get out
from under the weight of debt
and delusion. STRIVE TO BE HAPPY
Gas gauge shows empty. Faith tested
each turn of the way.
Luck is not something ever
to be counted on. YOU
ARE A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE
Slave to a mortgage. Another day.
Another
baby on the way,
another car seat to take up space
in the rusted-out minivan.
SPEAK YOUR TRUTH QUIETLY
AND CLEARLY Who is listening
to the lachrymose fragility
of a man crumbling from the inside,
prone to depression and
insolvent insecurity. FOR ALWAYS
THERE WILL BE GREATER AND
LESSER PERSONS
THAN YOURSELF
Another day. A sense of dissatisfaction,
a failed duty to his Father,
his family, and hiding it all behind
the Holy book and a promise
MANY FEARS ARE BORN OF FATIGUE
AND LONELINESS He is tired of
not feeling the wealth
of spirit or enough love
for himself, let alone
the Lord. THEREFORE
BE AT PEACE WITH GOD
WHATEVER YOU CONCEIVE HIM TO BE
AND WHATEVER YOUR LABORS AND
INSPIRATIONS. Pray for the strength
to make it through
another day.
©2017 j.g. lewis
The deepest bow to Max Ehrman and his beautiful Desiderata, evermore prose that reminds and inspires.
And yes, I borrowed freely. Deep peace.
Poem Kubili is an international
companionship of poets with
a common love of writing and
reading poetry. To read more of
of the group’s collected works
visit poemkubili.com
One reply on “Another Day”
Beautiful…