Wall Calendar

of equally sized boxes, numbered
seven in a row,
and pictures of Canadian wildlife hanging above it
truthfully, I am unsure how the Wilson’s warbler
keeps track of her days,
but I think it is not nearly so manufactured

carefully measured days are not so much a dime a
dozen as you would think,
and with all our well thought-out plans,
even
contingency plans,
we are nevertheless drawn along effortlessly
by sunrise upon sunrise,
sunset upon sunset

the treasures of yesterday’s remembrances,
etching out the hidden form of meanings and stories;
moments sought by the gentle worn souls of the here and now
doing the joyful labour of living-in
the present, unwrapped by a sense of absolute belonging,
tugged ever forward by the audacious
hope of the everlasting tomorrow—
where breath is defined not by the hours but the encounters face to face

Text: Elita Fung
Artwork: Becky Chai