flag at half-staff hangs heavy in mute eulogy dripping salt water – Connie Kemila

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Thank You, Pierre
Memories
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Waiting at the Gates
One Final Farewell
Archived Letters

Your responses:

I have written this poem to show my appreciation of a giant of a man I met twice, once as at a school jamboree and later in my teens a member of the Royal Canadian Air Cadet of 742 Squadron. I salute you Mr. Trudeau for the step you given me to be a part of Canada. Angels smile upon you for leading people to humanity.

Here, where I landed... thirty years ago.

Pierre Elliott Trudeau had taken control
many years go bye, I ask where is here?
Home, it has become a land of fridgate air
ice and snow, changing of the four season.

Have you seen Canada?... I can hear him say

Cobble streets,
forts of old lumber towns,
weathered and age victorian homes
settlements by canals, lakes and rivers,
cliffs where brave battles fought lives lost, conquers triumph.

Here, where I landed… thirty years ago.

Pierre Elliott Trudeau
invited my kind to take part in multicultural Canada.
Each step from the magnificent flying machine
took me closer to planes of factories, high-rises,
bridges, roads of past history now paved
for a chance at a future across this land of forest
mountains, water ways.

Have you seen Canada?... I could hear him say.

Pierre Elliott Trudeau constitute my individuality
sharing culture, contributing to our vastness.
Free to look, listen, be expressive...
early morning sound a loon
announcing day break
multiple carpet of colours the maples model autumn's fashion,
red, orange, yellow and gold.
Pillows of hay lie wating in farmer's fields
spinkle white with frost as the days grow short

Here, where I landed... Pierre Elliott Trudeau's Canada.

Wind swept leaves,
naked trees exposing rocky hills,
logged, clogged marshes,
busy creatures like the beavers
engaging in habitat building... strengthening the dams
protecting their home... Pierre Elliott Trudeau would say, "that's our country."

Have you seen Canada?

By Sharon Clarke-Liu

A mania emanating from his gentle nature
An aristocracy in his name Trudeau
Too soon for a man of such giant stature
Too soon we just watched him go

A vast vision veering the course of politics
A big bravado breathing bursts of fire
Too soon for his clueless critics
Too soon from public life he retired

A just society beating in his inclusive heart
An otherworldliness to his singular style
Too soon he chose to gracefully depart
Too soon we missed his charming smile

A fuddle duddle mouthed by his playful lips
An eloquence elevating us to a higher height
Too soon he stopped uttering his clever quips
Too soon he wished us a sweet goodnight

An orator's wit on his forthright tongue
A soldier's strength in his steady knees
Too soon he lost his youngest son
Too soon for trying times like these

A rebellious pirouette in his stately gait
A magnetic spark in his steely eye
Too soon he met his final fate
Too soon he made all of Canada cry

A red maple leaf pumping within his chest
A red rose pinned on his designer lapel
Too soon we laid him down to rest
Too soon he bid au revoir and farewell

By Harmohanjit Singh Pandher
Burnaby, British Columbia
(Sep. 28, 2000)

Everyone is today Trudeau forgetting
or bad things about him saying,
but I think he should come down to my place
in Altona. I will make him some borscht,
and rollkuchen with honey
from the Thiessen place in Beaverlodge.
And we can talk.
I will even some French for him be trying,
and maybe he can speak some Low German.
More tongues we need in this place,
not fewer. My man Doft has told me once
I am Mr. Trudeau loving too much and
he thinks I would like to kiss him,
or run away with him even.
Well, maybe it's true
and I am sad because there are no more politicians
I am feeling like kissing.
He the last one was, ja?
When we first came to this country
the Liberals were letting us in.
And when I am old,
Mr. Trudeau has me a cheque given
for old age pension. No one has such a thing
heard before in Coaldale or Altona.
Now all the lazy people want only
to speak in one tongue
like before Babel, but the Lord knows
tyhat is only for money-making good.
For the birscht, the more things go in,
the better the eating.
Ah, ja, what do I know,
but when the Holy Spirit came
and everyone was in tongies speaking
they did not all babble the same,
they only understood each other.
Already each tongue
their own country wants,
like Manning and Parizeau, but they are small
people, with visions like a rooster.
For myself, I would rather into the new year
porzeltche with Trudeau be eating
than mannagruetze with Manning.
But no one listens to an old lady
anymore, ja? So when we each
are sitting alone, speaking to ourselves
in our own tongue, like Mr. Toews here in the home
who always into his soup mumbles,
maybe they will remember me,
and Mr. Trudeau even,
and they will see, even if a man sometimes
wrong is, it is good to have someone
around to be giving a kiss, ja?

Authors's Notes:
Porzeltche are new year's fritters; mannagruetze is cream of what, which I always remember as being a sign that we were poor, because it was cold and lumpy, although my mother assures me that the cold lumpiness was my own doing. If only I ate it when she served it.

you entered the waters
calm, and quiet
canoe sturdy, well built
made in Canada
holding you safe

from storms to come

you endured
paddling against currents
violent waves, missiles
that rocked your vessel

from storms that came

you paddled in calm waters
and blinding storms
always finding
a safe harbour
to wait out the winds

the storms

blowing at your back
trying to toss
you out
into the abyss

storms blown out

you held on
paddles in the water
creating ripples
outward

to infinity

Thank you Pierre, we all have a safe harbour and calm seas and can watch the ripples forever.

Suzanne Cole
Edmonton, AB

Postmortem (in memory of Pierre Elliot Trudeau)

The cold –
withhold me from my means;
bleed in me
like the howling hoards
hounding the wicked train;
I suck all life
from the hatchery in me
when shock is the silent foam
burning the bones where he frigidly lay.

It was the lighthouse staring at the sailor's end;
and a bra bearing ocean mounds
surfaced upon the raging red rage
pouring from the outpost
no longer swept by the hurricane
frothing from the sailor's mouth –
and, like the ants milling about the tree,
death bore herself onboard the hot vessel
to see the geyser's spray.

Then...I stood alone upon the masses,
and –
saw seven pallbearers,
one leg different from the rest:
four in white wedding gowns half cut at the waste –
strode –
more power than the others;
it was a wedding march in a funeral;
glossy eyes were sweat
and in death, he bore a red rose dress;
slamming in, united with two;
together as three;
three servants of the lord;
with black hooded gowns caping their heads;
as the rest - driven into the ground
in a passionate wake
pronounced by the sliver, the blood,
the girl and the boys
both casket and carrier,
lined by a human stream.

To Pierre Elliot Trudeau,
May you live on as a hero of the nation. Never forgoten. Never ignored. Always loved.

David Komlenovic
Kamloops, B.C.

A dream decants
One tear drop at a time

Into a vast ocean
Of red and white

Until the last salty spike
Ripples across a country

Beyond life
Our nation builder whispers

Just watch me

Frank Thomson
Calgary, Alberta

He had a vision of Canada fair
That French and English both could share
He demanded that we work together
With due respect and no white feather

The Canada that I'm so proud of
Grew so much with his love
The charter that he brought us home
Rivals music or a poem

Pierre take the rest that you have earned
You've taught the lessons; we have learned
We know our nation is the best
Way out in front of the rest

Margaret Perrault
North Bay, Ontario

So quickly gone from our sight
This giant of a man, our leader,
One who personified grace, dignity
Towering intellect and deep spirituality.
An artist - one who could express profound thoughts
In clear, memorable and very poetic language.

He captured the spirit of Canada
Where people of all races, languages and creeds
Could live together in peace and harmony.

A writer, a poet, a thinker,
A shy intelligent man
Who did not shrink for the call to serve our country.
And when he assumed the mantle of leadership
He strode the national and international stage
With flair, pinache, courage and strength.

Farewell, Pierre - notre ami !
Your red, red rose still grows
Beyond the garden wall
Into the sunlight of tomorrow.
In life you fashioned a Canadian dream.
In death you have stirred your people
To continue to strive for that dream.

Juanita Rathbun
St. Catharines, Ontario

He truly was the modern father of Canada. I wrote a song "The Maples of the Valley / L'erable de la vallee" a few years back with Pierre as part of my inspiration. It will be sung by hundreds of schools in French and English this Remembrance Day. It is my humble tribute to this friend who inspired me to think about my country as a family.

Thank you, Pierre. We love you.

The Maples of the Valley

When I think of all the souls who've paid for freedom with their lives,
Or I feel the inspiration from a cold blue prairie sky.
When I'm standing by the ocean wondering where our future lies
I know I care. And our future's there.

In every Rock on every hillside, every river wild and free.
Every raindrop on the faces of the children we won't see.
In the freedom they will taste in every brook or mountain stream,

Like the maples of the valley, growing true north, strong and free.

There's a quiet pride that always hides a fire in our hearts,
We're all sisters we're all brothers many colours many parts.
We're a land of many wonders living under lucky stars and
when we're gone, we will live on and on.

In every rock on every hillside every river wild and free.
Every raindrop on the faces of the children we won't see.
In the freedom they will taste in every brook or mountain stream,

Like the maples of the valley, like the maples of the valley
Growing true north, strong and free.

And our hearts will be the thunder
and our voice will be the wind.
And our hope is in our children
And our souls will be their dreams.

Ronnie Way
Vancouver

I felt the answer in my heart
although he spoke no word.
I asked that he be near you
at the start of each new day
to grant you courage and blessings
and friends to share your way.

Our deepest sympathy to the family and may god bless and keep you.

Sincerely,
Lee Falconi and family
North Bay, Ontario

He smiles upon us

Tonight he sleeps in peace
He's tired from the long journey across Canada and the world
Yet his spirit is free and strong
He has led us from ignorance to awareness
From mistrust to compassion and tolerance
From naive to sincerity and maturity
From a nation unknown to many to a nation best known by all
He brought us dignity and pride
He has opened the door to justice, multiculturalism, and Charter of Right
He taught us to stand up right and be proud

His journey was long but profound and impacting
His job's never done refining and molding Canada
But he's happy and satisfied
He is smiling now
Knowing that his dreams will not die
The Nation has awaken to his dreams once again
For every poor person helped he smiles
For every wrong righted he smiles
For every new immigrant arrived he smiles
For every justice served he smiles
For every right challenged he smiles

His dreams live on in the nation he loved so much
Canada and the world awaken to his passions once again
We carry on the torch he lit - the flames of passion and justice
He smiles knowing that the torch will never go out again
Sleep in peace our Prince Pierre Elliott Trudeau

Ty Truong

flag at half-staff hangs
heavy in mute eulogy
dripping salt water

connie kemila
october 2000

I never met you, but I'm proud to be one of yours.
I never met you, but I would like to be like you.
I never met you, but you led me.
I never met you, but you taught me.
I never met you, but you understood me.
I never met you, but I feel I know you
Intimately,
And even though you are no longer with us,
I still feel your presence here beside me.

Murray Barkhouse

i remember
a just society

unflanked
unassumed
riding with you

i remember
wanting to make
things right

wanting to do
what was good for others

i remember you
articulating
that justice was possible
for this large and almost unknowable country.

good night good night
pat lesage cockburn

You changed our lives and you made us strong,
I pray for you and say so long.

My love goes out to your family,
my love groes strong with your memories.

Everyday I think of you,
what you have done and what you have proved.

I sit outside looking at the sky,
I finally say to you goodbye.

You leave me strong and you leave me wise,
it is time for me to stand up and rise.

With your knowledge I will move on,
I will make my Canada beautiful and strong.

The time has come to end it here,
this October morning brings us tears.

The rain will fall and the sun will shine,
the sky will darken as another day goes by.

I will awake and open my eyes,
I will still see one Canada far and wide.

Thankyou Pierre and God bless your soul,
until we meet again, until we say hello.

Micheal Palitti
Toronto, Canada

Birgit Fliege Vaillancourt

I was apolitical
and as such political
I was asleep
and as such unaware
I was living
and as such unliving

but then
I was in the body politic
at McGill
1968-69
hearing of the FLQ
the IRA
a nursing student
I was becoming
aware
alive
knowing
political
and fearful for Quebec
for the people
lost innocence

I had graduated
gone from Montreal
it was October 1970
The War Measures Act
I praised your courage
your wisdom
your difficult choices
for your people
with your people
knowing the paradox
of unknowing
the consequences of action
and inaction

and I reflect now as then
on the measure of the man
you spoke for freedom
Quebec would not be
held hostage to terror
the pain still alive

you spoke for the people
with passion
with justice
with love

Rosalie young

Anthony Sciannamblo
Kirkland, Que.

When we were old he made us young.
Strong in his country's fierce debate,
He changed our vision, loosed our tongue,
Remade the fabric of our state.

Our politics are broken now,
The pale preserve of lesser men.
The Rosenkavalier has gone.
We shall not see his like again.

Francis T. Kirkwood
Ottawa, 3 October 2000

Trudeau, if only we could be so Brave.

Thank you.

Gordon Berg
Vancouver

Don't think of him as gone away
his journey's just begun
Life holds so many facets
this earth is only one

Think of him as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
In a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days and years

Think how he must be wishing
that we could know today
How nothing but our sadness
can really pass away

And think of him as living
in the hearts of those he touched
For nothgin loved is ever lost
and he was loved so much.

God Bless you both
Warm Hugs
Noel
Vancouver, B.C.

And yet you, dear Rose,
Will bloom forever
In our Canadian hearts.

Beth Bellaire
Cobourg, Ontario

The Canadian Rose

A fitting symbol
for the great man.
Beautiful to look at
both admired.
A sometimes thorny nature
the rose.

On the world stage
he made us proud.
The Canadian rose
was heard among the crowd
of great persons.
The world listened.

He chided us
to climb mountains
expand our horizons
look beyond ourselves
to the country, to the world.
The Nation listened.

He reflected us
to the world.
Inspired us to want
to be as cool,
as intellectual as he.
We listened.

Because of his vision,
we now see,
we are truly north,
strong and free,
from sea to sea to sea.
The Canadian rose.

From J.J. McIntyre

A humanitarian you are
A vision you saw
Canada strong,... in kindness and deed,
A symbol of hope, and of peace.

Tolerance and equality for the world to see
Not where you came from or what language you speak...
But equal ... as we all should be

So many people, so many faces
So many groups, so many races
You embraced us all
For you knew, together we'd go places

So much strife, so much divide
You gave in the world a refuge to hide

So many regions , so many demands
You saw past that and gave us a strong land

So many backgrounds, so many walks
You treated us equal and took the time to talk

From so many lands, together we stand
For you sought to unite not to divide
And this legacy you left in our hands

A prime minister you were
A leader you personified
You stood your ground
And lived no lie
You followed your dream
And made this country...
So peaceful and free
A more TRUE CANADIAN
THERE CAN NEVER BE.

Renuka Devi Singh

Lord, could we have him back, just for one hour? I think we forgot to tell him. Forgot to tell him how we loved him, how he touched our lives and our hearts.

Father, he touched that place deep inside us. He touched that same place that makes our hair stand on end when we hear our national anthem – that same place that makes our eyes water when we think of the beauty of our nation.

Lord, did he have a mother? Because it seems like he sprang straight out of the Canadian earth, or perhaps from the womb of all Canadian women.

He was our son, and he belonged to us as much as we belonged to him.

Father, I do not know whether he knew you. People say he did. I do not know if he is with you now. But Lord, I pray that you would have mercy on his soul. I pray that you would take him to your side. I pray that his irrepressible spirit will live on with you in eternity.

And Father? Could you please show him how much we loved him? Because I think we forgot to tell him.

Chantal Desloges
September 30, 2000

A Canadian Story

Grand-daughter to poverty and despair
Daughter to migrants carrying
too light satchels in one hand and
Hope in the other

Sister to him with irrepressible spirit,
Despite a broken body

Owner of a Heart – buoyed up by the
tolerance and love of her Neighbours

Thinker, teacher, a "serious girl"
wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Lover of nature, plant biochemist,
world's worst adult learner of piano,
and later, doctor of medicine
serving humanity – humanely.

Witness to the life and death of a Great Man,
A man who authored this Canadian Story many days
before my birth.

Benefactor of this Just Society,
Proud Canadian,
Patriot,
Friend.

Merci,
Maria Eugenia Theodorou
Kingston, Ontario
Oct 3, 2000

Truthful
Remarkable
Unsurpassed
Distinguish
Enthusiastic
Admired
Unreplaceable

Ravi Suntharamoorthy
Nepean/Ontario (formely of Montreal/Quebec)

Cycling home along the Ottawa River
I slowed to observe a grey heron
Perched on a rock, looking out on the flowing waters,
The very embodiment of Pierre:
Solitary, angular, regal, at one with nature.
Suddently and gracefully, wings spread,
He lifted off towards the heavens.
And my prayers went with him.

Norm Leckie
Ottawa

Can pirouette a man define
A rose reveal the form divine?
Can passion sit with reason apt
And so explain th' enigma wrap't?
Words by millions seek for fact,
Yet none can total truth abstract.
The potter passes – the clay is set,
God sees those hands; He knows our debt.
Martin Wickham

While platitudes abound
For this shining life,
Something undefined is crowned
With ideals to light
The flame, our personal affair
With the Heart of vision
Inside his sparkled stare,
A process flows from Wisdom.
Surely there is a destiny
Proven in the files.
Was he calculating
Political life and trials?
Or from his just society
Did a force, a gravity
Decide the course
Of Canadian Sovereignty?
Trudeau mania not contrived,
A culture ripe and searching
For historical definition plied
With dreams of enduring unity.
His rose blooms incessantly
Not for power or popularity
But for the confident reality,
Of a furthering of humanity.
Beyond the walls of nationalism
Inside the mind driven
Towards a crafted vision
For us, selflessly given
Guiding us to a place
To act with conviction
While finding personal grace...
Our full life to engage

And carved from this stone
High honor we have known.

Michael Flynn
Victoria B.C.

Olga Graham
Willowdale, Ontario

By virtue of Mr. Trudeau's vision and leadership, these words may one day ring true for all Canadians. In his honour, let them be spoken in a thousand tongues. Certainly, that would have pleased him immensely.

We, the descendants of Canada's Aboriginal, French and English founders, AND OF ALL OTHERS who later arrived to help build this country, stand in unity as witness to this pledge.

Recognizing that Canada's provinces and territories have been built by peoples whose heritage, values and customs differed, we pledge in the name of Canada:
To respect, to celebrate and to preserve such diversity, lest a loss of identity suffers unto OUR descendants;
To embrace tolerance, equality, sharing and compassion as the moral cornerstones of this great nation;
To bond together as one in the pursuit of dignity, health, prosperity and happiness for all Canadians.

Let not conflicting ambitions, nor neglect, nor the passage of time allow this pledge to be forgotten or ignored. Long live this country that we all share, now and forever a land of diversity, tolerance and justice.

David R. Hayward
Beaconsfield, Quebec

This poem is lovingly dedicated to the people of Canada and to his beloved, surviving family on the occassion of his death, the celebration of his life and his memorable passing journey to the infinite light of love.

May peace and unity always hold our blessed land. May Mr. Trudeau continue to be a beacon of hope in the shores from coast to coast and abroad. May the rose never be in vain.

Chilean by birth, I am as proud to be a Canadian citizen as Mr. Trudeau was proud of his heritage and citizenship of the world. Canada is a country blessed by nature, the same nature he loved. Like him, it is our nature to be the earth, the sky and the flowing rivers he so much loved. To be mountains and wildlife. To face, to guide.

It is our nature to be a harmonious people. Our land is us. We are the land. The land is One. The land IS the citizen of the world. This is our landscape, his legacy.

At this hour, like many Canadians and the world, I carry the maple leaf thunderstruck by the rose of grief. Yet, I carry his vision like a blooming rose. May his life be the petals that nourish our land. May these humble words fly with his soul. May we grow wings and soar, like he did.

TO OUR MAPLE ROSE

O torn heart! We mourn
Like autumn leaves of red earth and sky
Canoeing the river's longing tide
Our maple rose has died!

The bell of three strikes its pass
At half mast the heart sinks its flag
To whom that rang the bell tall
To whom that battered words fell small.

O Rose! Precise Rose!
How born of mapled earth
Your scent buds my breathing heart
Beyond the earth's grave!

The lonely root that shoots an eye
Before the thought of I came and was
O Rose! My Maple Rose!
Seeking the glory of the blue sun!

Bed this maple earth
And shoot your loving sprout
Towards heaven's nest!

Before you stem the toothed leaves
That spring three, five, seven arboring moons
Just before just
You inch the first gracious sea spine

O Rose! Maple Rose!

– May you always be –

The feet that walk the stars to shine
The I the You the One
That holds the land, the shell, the sun
That sea songs the song of the sea
And beams the moon to seed.

Claudia Barria Davison
Poet
North Vancouver, B.C.

Pierre, you made us young, you made us proud, you made us dream.
You opened up a vision
Most had never seen.
A vision of a land so great
So glorious and grand
A vision of a destiny
That we hold in our hands.
A seed was sown, a flame was lit
Both are growing now
In a country full of people
Who are slowly learning how
To value all that we call ours
To value and to share
In diversity and unity
For Canada to care.
Go gently now into the night
Your work for us is done,
We've caught your vision and your dream,
And we will carry on.

With heartfelt prayers,
Martha V. Prytula
Victoria, B.C.

I know that I am bound
for a journey down the sound
in the midst of a refuse mound
but wotthehell wotthehell
oh I should worry and fret
death and I will coquette
there's a dance in the
old dame yet
toujours gai toujours gai

– from the lives and times of archy and mehitabel, by Don Marquis

Godspeed, Pierre
Ron Collings & Lisa Grigg

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

Praise be to Allah, Lord of the worlds;
The Beneficent, the Merciful;
Owner of the Day of Judgment,
You (alone) we worship; You (alone) we ask for help.
Guide us on the straight path;
The path of those You have favored
Not (the path) of those who earn Your anger
Or of those who go astray.

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful

Say: He is Allah, the One!
Allah, the eternal besought of all!
He begetteth not nor was begotten.
And there is none comparable unto Him.

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful

Our Lord, let not our hearts deviate now, After You have guided us, but grant us Mercy form Your own Presence.
You are the grantor of bounties.
Our Lord. You are the one who will gather mankind together on a Day about which there is no doubt. For God never fails in His promise.
You caused the night to gain on the day, and the day to gain on the night.
You bring the living from the dead and the dead out of the living and
You give limitless sustenance to whom You please. And give good
Tidings to those who patiently persevere, Who, when they are visited by an affliction, say: Surely we belong to Allah and to Him we return!
Allah and His angels shower blessings on the Prophet.
O ye who believe! Ask blessings on him. And salute him with a worthy salutation.
God Almighty, the exalted has affirmed the Truth.

Sincerely,
Mehboob Datoo & family