Category Archives: Maia


I wish, even when something can be done
I wish because I feel stuck and unsung

I wish, even though I have lots
I wish because I feel loss, and lost

I wish, even after moments of feeling glad
I wish because I feel enormously sad

I wish, even though the sun just shone
I wish because I feel cold and alone

I wish I’d been a better friend throughout
I wish I could reach out, through doubt

I wish I wasn’t scared of rejection
I wish I didn’t thrive on connection

I wish I could be who I used to be
I wish my resting smile would return to me

I wish to the stars, for wishes that tall
Wishing for the days when I had it all

Maia Waern
February 23, 2021


May I look for another second?

You can blink as you do


Cleaning the windows

That show your skies


Including the clouds

Blowing by


I don’t know your story

But if you have the time


Your eyes give a preview

That I’d like to pursue


If your story is private

A childhood dream will do


I dream of more moments

In the sandbox on the hill


Maia Waern

Nov 26 2020, 4:43pm (fin)


Turning it off

Leaving the room


Making brownies

Improv baking


Sew a bag

Water some plants


Read a paper

Knit some scarf


Turn it on again

Same old news again


Turning it off again


Choosing a hobby

Making something

Reading, writing


Keeping it off


Maia Waern

Nov 26 2020, 1am


Sirens clouding over the quiet air

Sound like they’re on my porch


Another follows, piercing

A train answers, squealing


But the streets are mostly empty

And mostly silent


Vehicles without sirens are speeding

People dog-walking seem cluttered


Darting away from fellow walkers

Further isolating the isolated


Silently grateful for the friend

Who loves me no matter what


In this silent city

Still loud, but quieter now


I can hear my friend’s breath

Happy at her end of the leash


Maia Waern

Nov 25 2020

A Grand River Poem

I often find
The Grand River
Running through my mind

As I stop on a Toronto sidewalk
And step to the curb to jay-walk
My eyes dart around on the road ahead
But my mind is on the riverbed

The curb is like the water’s edge
With a bridge of stones to the other side
And a Kingfisher laughing its way down the river
To where the water is deep and wide

But the city’s steel-enforced trees
Have concrete roots and glass bark
And flat roof treetops
Where pigeons are watched
By falcons and hawks

Concrete paths and man-made trees
Make me pause and long to be
Where the owl hoots from the tallest trees
That are a stone’s throw when the river’s low

When the river’s high, it hustles by
And combs the grass on either side
Like market-going neighbours who buy
Every fruit and berry that they can carry

Thinking of where the berries come from
My mind abandons the city’s hum
To where no sounds can be heard
Except for the water, the wind, and the birds

Next to the fields of the neighbouring farm
Down the hill from the big, old barn
The river bends and twists
Where the fishermen’s path cannot be missed

Far from the city’s drone
Under slow-moving water
Beneath a silver-green stone
A crayfish isn’t the only one
Who calls the Grand River home

A Chickadee Story

The Chickadees in High Park ignored me all summer, but today they surrounded me!

As I paused on a path to take an autumn photograph, a Chickadee fluttered beside my ear – and then another flapped against my camera-holding hand. Then, in a flash of feathers, there were suddenly 3 in the nearest bush, staring me down with their intense cuteness.

But I found myself strangely without sunflower seeds – in either of my coat pockets – so I was relieved to find that my bag of homemade trail mix had pumpkin seeds and shelled peanuts.

Yes, Chickadee claws seriously tickle my otherwise-numb, ukulele-weathered fingertips! I can even see a dent from a larger Chickadee’s grip moments before this tiny sweetie took her turn.

She was tentative and waiting deep in the bush, but came closer when I began to speak encouragingly. When she finally landed on me (seen here), she sat there for a long time, giving me a look that so help me said, ‘you forgot to break up that last peanut.’ She was right!

She eventually jumped into the palm of my hand and grabbed a piece of pumpkin seed, which she ate in a nearby bush. When she came back and found that I’d broken the peanut in two, she quickly snatched half and flew like a rocket to a faraway tree.

When I came home, I put a handful of sunflower seeds into each of my coat’s pockets…

The Grand River

Little has changed in the place where the Grand River runs through the forest where I learned to love nature. The welcoming paths beckon just like always, inviting me to enter and venture through the cool, shady woods. And the goal remains the same. Go to the river.

As a child at the water’s edge, the river taught me to babble and to go with the flow. The birds taught me to sing and weave songs. And the trees taught me to listen. Each lesson remains true today. Rustling leaves aren’t always the wind.

The chickadee warns about a ground squirrel rustling as the hawk swoops while the heron is hunting for a fish jumping at bugs scurrying across the slow-moving water that cleans and is cleaned by the rocks under which the crayfish hide. And after the Kingfisher leaves the scene with the last word, the fleeting silence is broken by a splashy plop as I toss a farewell stone into the river. Until next time.

To this day I can’t wait to skitter over the bouncy plywood bridge that crosses the swampy creek behind the house, and to search the pinecone-covered ground for just the right stick to whisk away the spiderwebs that will surely be strewn across the quickest path down to the river.

While time moves slowly on my family’s country property in southcentral Ontario, the nearby towns have quickly built suburbs with neighbouring wind turbines that cast long and moving shadows across unfarmed farmland. These days, traffic is more than just one car.

But the cows still lie down when a big rain is looming, and the owls still hoot up a storm in the evening, and there’s still a familiar and comforting place to be found where low waters create bridges of stones that go all the way to the other side.

Nestled between farmers’ fields, in the middle of a thriving forest, the tree canopies open fast and reveal water and sky at a place where the mossy paths turn to follow alongside the Grand River. At the river’s edge, little has changed.

Ukulele Daily Good-Newsletter 01

Welcome to Ukulele Daily!

“A good-newsletter for people who think about ukulele daily”

This is the pre-release of Issue 01 – for Spring 2017

Based on real people’s true stories

Written by yours truly,

Ukulele Daily

The Mum Strum Intro Blog


In various living rooms and backyards (Oakwood/Rogers/St Clair West area)

By reservation only – spaces limited – email to inquire!

The detailed Mum Strum story is on The Official Mum Strum Page.


Maia Store

Looking for unique gifts made locally (or with cotton)?
Wishing for a crowd-free shopping experience?

Maia Store is ready for the season!  And so is Ned…


I’m selling Maia-made gifts (CDs, gift certificates for ukulele lessons, and silver/semi-precious jewellery), as well as Maia-approved products (Thentix and Pocketdiscs).  Keep reading for details…

Maia Store is located in my music studio – open daily – by appointment only.

Shoppers may be treated to a mini concert, if they wish…

Want to do some shopping?  Email me!


My albums are $15 or 2 for $25 – and not available in stores!  (We see you, Ned!)


My debut album, From Now On, features an Alhambra guitar and an old baritone ukulele.

My second album, I’ll Be Here, features a Fender concert ukulele and gourd thumb piano.

Both albums’ main ingredient is all orginal Maia songs (except for Amazing Grace, final track, From Now On).

Want?  Email!

Stay tuned for album number three!  I’m rehearsing to record 12 more original songs in late-January 2017…


Ukulele Gift Certificates for one-hour private lessons are $40 (see details on certificate)


Did you know that I’m a ukulele teacher? I also offer preschool music circles and music for seniors. And Teddy Bear Jams, too!

Uke interested?  Prefer a $20 (half-hour private lesson) certificate?  Have another request?  Email me!


Maia-made sterling silver jewellery. Plain or featuring semi-precious stones or amber.


It takes 4 pliers to make each link. Link by link – there is a lot of Maia love in these chains!

Prices range from $15 (simple earrings) to $140 (necklace, bracelet, earring set). Bracelets are between $20-40.

Want?  Email!


Thentix is my go-to cream, from my nose to my toes…  They also make lovely lip balm and hair oil.


Did you know that I am a Thentix distributor (  Yeah, it’s that good!  Why is it so good?  Thentix is made with sunflower oil and honey (etc.) by a not-too-big but not-too-small company in Ontario.  Soothing for babies-to-seniors, and used in hospitals, Thentix is simple, good skin care that smells sweetly close to nothing.  Well, except for the lip balm, which smells like honey, and the hair oil, which smells like the beach….
Want?  Email!  (My prices are better than in stores)

Special Offer:  free trial jar with any other purchase (while supplies last)
COTTON FRISBEES!!!  Actually, these are (100% cotton) Pocketdiscs.  Please don’t call them ‘frisbees’…they hate that…

Pocketdiscs ( are handmade (fair trade) in Guatemala, designed and distributed by a friendly company in California.

I was only able to find the Indoor edition of Pocketdisc sold in Toronto, so I ordered a box-full of every size!

Seriously, this is the best toy in the whole wide world.  You can grab a Pocketdisc out of thin air without ever hurting your fingers!  It’s a musician’s dream toy!  And it is great for an energetic outdoor or indoor (winter or rainy day) activity, as well as being hands-on, off-line, smile-to-smile fun!

Indoor size – $15
Sports edition – $20
el Grande – $25

Want?  Email!