Tag Archives: creation

Truck Parade

Here in Victoria, one of the more curious Christmas traditions has got to be the annual truck parade.  The local trucking industry gets together and has a parade of festively decorated trucks crawl along one of the main roads out of town to one of the suburbs where they are part of a charity event.  Along the way, the drivers keep up an incessant honking of horns, mostly of the basso profundo variety, punctuated by the odd siren or two.

Tonight, my after dinner walk started with a close encounter with a raccoon, who quickly shimmied up a tree to stare at me eye to eye. Interspecies communication is perplexing sometimes, as it was tonight, so I rambled on. Soon enough the silence was broken by the distant cacophony of the trucks.  The noise the horns produce can be described as charmingly obnoxious, kind of annoying but at the same time endearing, in a folksy kind of way.

Like most of the northern hemisphere we are experiencing cold weather but tonight the clear skies more than made up for the frosty temperature.  The night sky was absolutely stunning, considering that the hill rests at the edge of a modestly sized provincial capitol. Tonight the stars shone bright against the void, only slightly dimmed by a not quite quarter moon and the carpet of lights that defines the urban environment. Hilltop views at night are awesome wherever you are. Here on the edge of the Pacific Ocean we also have the benefit of having some of the cleanest air on the planet, which adds to the overall experience. I digress.

So I was at one of my favourite vantage points, staring out past the lights of the city, looking over the horizon to people I care about and places I love and places I’ve never seen, looking up at the sky at a swirl of starlight and I pondered the antiquity of each twinkle. All the while the truck drivers pounded their horns, blasting random bursts of sonic energy or leaning on a note like a tightfisted preacher.

It was sort of annoying and distracting but I tried to let it roll through me and over me.  I looked into the archive of creation, the distant stars and galaxies and whatever lies beyond and the honking of the horns prompted me to understand that all those distant lights from long ago must have been accompanied by epic noise.  Those tiny lights all represent enormous explosions of energy and matter and somewhere those sounds still reverberate. At that moment I was able to transcend my annoyance with the intrusion of honking horns by using them as proxies for the symphony that accompanied the creation of those distant lights. For a moment, a brief moment, I heard the music of the spheres.


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Filed under Passing Thoughts


Once I was a photon travelling white hot screaming

Through starbody explosions intensifying into excitement

Then slipping past sentries flinging overfenced escaping

Into the night sky’s cold blackness

Sped into a measureless void heralding the heat of creation

Into dark corners radiating warmth with a promise of more

Once I was molten churning magma ooze

Running red hot through mantle crust

To arrive fluidly into a fixation of granite

Where I stood grounded and surrounded

Until I was ground down by elemental others

Chipped and hacked into boulders and rocks

Crumbled into smallness of sand

Populating deserts and beaches and playgrounds

Where I became the world for three year olds with toy trucks

Who extrapolated me into highways and mines

That grew inside the fertile minds of innocence as yet unbound

Once I was a dewdrop that slipped from tiny leaf

Into a mere suggestion of a stream

Rubbing shoulders with my brothers

As we tumbled slid from stream to creek to river to sea

Where I was transcended through evaporation

Into the sky to join water angels skydancing cloudbodied

Shapeshifting through windrivers

Until gravity tapped my shoulder and I fell to earth

Where I rest in moistened communion with everything

That I have been part and apart of

Everything connected somewhere somewhen somehow

Once I was this moment


David Trudel   © 2013

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Filed under Poetry


How are you?

There’s a question we ask each other a lot

Answering glibly that we’re fine or good

When really we’re troubled and stressed out

Tense and preoccupied

With nagging injuries that cause us pain

Enthralled to Chronos until transcendence springs us free

Terminally human and trapped inside our skin

And that’s not even answering the how of us

How do these elemental particles charged with creation’s divinity

Hold together in the constant becoming of self

What are the cosmic answers to philosophical mysteries of being

And how are we are in relation to what baseline of normalcy

So the next time you see me

Don’t ask me the usual

Unless you want to leap into a Proustean torrent of immediacy

Deconstructing three little words into a philosophical search for the meaning of life

Trending back to the moment when time began

And the clock started to run out

That’s just how I am



David Trudel    ©  2013



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Filed under Poetry

Ectopic Poems

Ectopic poems cling to randomly numbered unsaved pages

Words that didn’t coalesce into completion

Although they seemed promising enough

At the moment of creation

Now these non-poems sit stillborn on my desktop

Bleeding out with momentary misery

So I shower more words

Lathered words

Warm words

Removing bloody stains of the unborn

To be swept away

But never quite forgotten



David Trudel   © 2013




Filed under Poetry

Big Bang

We used to have it so together

We were so attracted to each other

We lived, dreamed and co-existed so deliciously close

There was no separation between us

Your moments were my moments

Not that we counted because it wasn’t necessary

You were me and I was you

Until the moment that changed it all

Our timeless love collapsed

There was a new impulse to drive us forward


We flew apart

Getting out of each other’s way at lightspeed

Moving mountains momentously

It was all so strange

Not to be one with you anymore

Familiar stasis replaced with exploration of new dimensions

Still, we flew farther and farther apart

Getting loose

And travelling to the ends of the universe

Travelling to the end of time

Letting you carry your own baggage

Wherever you might be

Because I repulse you

You repulse me

Enough to create a myriad of new worlds

To escape each other in

And our only together is a telescope view

Of that moment

When it blew up

For good



David Trudel  ©  2013





Filed under Poetry