I Am Cailin Raine

I am cailin raine

This is my pen name for writing

That is one thing that I can say

I grew up colleen weber and that never did

Seem right

It was kind of empty and too short or something

And kind of like my mom had omitted a part of me

Turns out she did.

I know that I have Genoe blood in me

And Carr, I dream of being related to Emily

Wow, a real gal that one, a writer

Like me.

Turns out mom had a period of time

When she was not all happy about her life

Maybe the farm chores and little kids at home

Maybe too much housework and cleaning up “after”

Maybe the romance had waned, got lost in the shuffle

Cows are not always cute, they make messes in the barn.

Women all have a secret “inner girl” that really shines bright

But most of the time no one sees that “real” girl and she is

Lonely.

Maybe that was when John saw that girl inside of my mom

And for a brief time that brought her joy.

Can’t believe that sixty-three years passed before I knew

Could not believe at first, still seems like a dream

But it is a real dream, and I regret only that I did not get to

Know him.

Printed out a blow up of his picture, from the one with six brothers

My uncles, and they could have been my friends

Put my Kimberley Rock picture beside this new one

My father.

We look alike, and the picture of my grandma Laura

Speaks to me, she speaks to me, that amused expression

I see it all the time in the mirror, when I am not going to tell anyone

What I think is funny. 

She has that same look in her eyes, my friend saw it right off.

What a time when we all go home and have that big reunion

Can’t wait to see my other family there, and on the other side

Everyone will just simply understand, because life is messy

Just like the cows in the barn, life doesn’t stay neat and tidy.

Sometimes we get really messed up, and then we need some help

To rearrange, to regroup, to haul ourselves up one more time

And get ourselves around the next bend.

So now I have a whole lot of names, I gave myself a new legal name

August Colleen Raine, there is Genoe, there is Weber because I have

My dad who raised me, I can never forget my dad who I grew up loving

But now I know there is Graham because that is who my father is…

I always wanted a tartan, turns out I do have a beautiful green one!

So now I have to integrate my whole being, my whole life

Into a conglomerate that encompasses the whole story.

(Oh, I went to a psychic, and quite a few were present in the room.  The male father energy that showed up, larger than life… was John; I think he wants me to call him John.  I felt his caring and his love.)

And I should also say, that conglomerate, that valley girl, she is ok.

August Colleen Cailin Raine Graham Genoe Weber

The Yellow House

It came to me in a dream, out of a book, playing with my mind

Blond yellow brick strutting its verandah with a big maple right beside

Honeysuckle vines twine high up the wooden posts lending their

Sweet fragrance wafting towards the open kitchen window.

Butterflies dance around the buddleia bush, casting an ethereal

Dreamlike lull to the homey scene — my bare feet skim the grass

There is a big glass jar on the porch, left there to catch fireflies

And lanterns adorn the edge of the garden full of perennials.

White lace stirs inside the open window, whispering a secret

“You belong here”… and my heart answers and my mind opens

There is a long rail fence ambling its way up the field by the laneway

It is August, and a little dry, a dusty feel to everything, but the breeze

Blows softly and freshens my soul, I quicken with the essence

Of this place, this dream, a foretelling of where I am to be.

Behind the house near the old well there is a rock garden

Patches of basil, rosemary, sage and thyme spill over the edges

Parsley, mint and chives adorn the stone ornaments softly

I sit with my back against the huge flat rock and let the sun

Cast its strength upon me, I lift my face and smile for I am ready

To let his arms enfold me and at last — feel his kiss awake me.

cailin raine