Water is Life

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Today’s poetry prompt is to write a “When ________” poem.

When You Sit Down
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

When you sit down to your grateful table
to celebrate the comfortable tale
of kindness and cooperation
between indigenous Americans
and the frozen, starving refugees
who sought new life in this land,

give a thought for those who stand
today upon a bridge, in frigid weather,
blasted by the water cannon,
harried by grenades and dogs,
who would preserve this land that they belong to,
who seek to protect her waters.

Remember how the now enfolds the past,
how it is wrapped within the future,
how the stories and the legends
build themselves upon each other,
how mists obscure the truth of time
as water droplets freeze on the Dakota plain.

On the Eve of this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for:
1. Organ Donors, especially the one who gave the gift of life to my friend Kyla. May her Donor’s family experience some comfort in knowing that the good strong heart of their loved one has given new life to another who is loved by oh-so-many.
2. The Water Protectors. All of them around the world, but in particular the Indigenous people of the United States who are standing for their rights and for the rights of the Earth in North Dakota, despite the constant and growing human rights violations of the forces arrayed against them. May they prevail.
3. The way new doors open in the blind places. This one may be a tight fit, but there are a thousand shades of blue over there on the other side.
4. This process: Daydream, envision, create.
5. Sweet potato quesadillas. With sour cream and super spicy tomatillo salsa.

May we walk in Beauty!

Finding Center

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Today’s prompt is a two-fer: a sharing poem/a selfish poem.
I decided to do a goofy little limerick.

Limerick
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

There once was a grumpy young shellfish
who sold fish in a market–so selfish
was he, losing money,
which was really quite funny,
for a selfish old shellfish can’t sell fish.

Gratitude List:
1. Colors. The colors of sunset, of sunrise, of the blue on a chilly autumn day.
2. Listening to Harry Potter with the boys
3. An after-school nap
4. Finding center. The way people keep me from flying off, floating away, losing my center.
5. Snuggly kids in winter pajamas

May we walk in Beauty!

Thinking Out Loud

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I suppose I ought to cut back on the Dreamscope doodles, but–like poetry–this is another way of viewing the world, a way of looking at things aslant, a way of telling a truth that goes deeper than surface reality.

Today’s Prompt is Thinking Out Loud. This is a tough one. But it’s also what this whole blog experience is for me.

Thinking Out Loud
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

You’re the kindness keepers, kiddos.
You’re the ones who see all.
You’re the bees knees, people,
the watchers of wisdom,
grasping for grace.

You’ve got style and vim.
You’re full of zest and zip.
You’ll find your place in the universe.
Then watch out, wondering world.
Just see what these fine folk can do.

Gratitude List:
1. Sunrise and Sunset clouds. The colors have me giddy these days.
2. Warm coat, warm scarf, warm hat, warm mittens.
3. We can still borrow my parents’ car while Pippi is back in the shop.
4. Driving through eddies of leaves here on the mountain.
5. We didn’t hit those deer on the way home from Parent-Teacher Conferences tonight. ‘Tis the season, folks–drive carefully.

May we walk in Beauty!

Wing and Prayer

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Bringing my vulture back to symbolize the wing and the prayer.

Today’s Prompt is to take a common phrase and make it the title and the theme of the poem.

On a Wing and a Prayer
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

What does this day ask of us?
What do the spirits of the time require?

To find that inner sight that will not settle us to sleep
nor keep us in the constant throes of rage and riot.
To be creatures of the air, wing-powered momentum,
lifted by prayer, held aloft by the voices from within.
A life of contemplation, inner knowingness,
fueling outward action, emboldening our activism.

To throw ourselves, like crows, bellyfirst into the gale,
and beat our wings against the wind,
aloft upon both wing and prayer.

Gratitude List:
1. Winds of change
2. A crow sitting in the top of a windy tree. Crows in the sky buffeted by wind.
3. How the leaves came suddenly walking down the wind yesterday afternoon. The moment the wind came. And all is wind-scoured, wind-shriven, wind-blasted.
4. All those people on Facebook yesterday who spoke about the wind, how the shift to windy autumn was a sudden awakening, how the wind brought them alive. So many friends went outside and embraced the wind. I will, too.
5. That cloud on the way home from church this afternoon, full of blue. Not the Prussian Blue or Indigo of shadow, but an otherworldly, pregnant Maryblue. Like the corner of the Mother’s robe pushing through from beyond this world.

May we walk in Beauty!

Temple of Beauty

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Today’s Prompt is to write a poem about a specific, everyday sort of location.

Temple of Beauty
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

I feel like an intruder in these halls of Beauty,
where the mirrors reflect each other to infinity,
and priestesses murmur dreams and blessings
into the hair of the seekers, where the smell
of exotic fruits and rare blooms mingle
with the (al)chemical tang of the unguents
and oils with which they anoint their acolytes.

I make my pilgrimage several times each year,
and perhaps it is my erratic attendance
that fills me with discomfort, the sense of not belonging
to this church of possibility, of transformation.
Yet, when I walk out the temple doors
I too am transmuted, changed,
the blessings dripping from my head
as I shake my hair in the autumn breeze.

Gratitude List:
1. Balmy weather
2. Our new neighbors are kindred spirits
3. The red Japanese maple out back
4. Sometimes actually knowing where the Yes goes, where the No goes, and how to hold the space between the two. I am grateful for all those who are helping me to practice.
5. The leathery red leaves of the little oak out back

May we walk in Beauty!

Following the Pack

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Today’s prompt is to write a poem which includes the words band, logic, pack, web froth,  and clean.  I’ll try a quick sestina. There really should be no such thing as a quick sestina–they take lots of work, so the free-association of this one is a little sloppy. I like the formal rules of it, but I always have trouble moving the ideas along because of the way the words that end the lines keep bringing me back. I think a brilliant sestina re-interprets the words much more ably than I can do in the few minutes I have.

Troubled Sestina
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

You’ve got to hand it to the band.
It takes a lot of guts to twist the logic
to coax the sheep to follow the pack
of howling wolves, to cast that web
of lies, of fluff and froth.
They’ll never get their hands clean.

Like Lady MacBeth trying to clean
her hands of that damned spot, the band
will soak and soap their hands in a froth
but they can never wash off that illogic,
never extricate themselves from the web,
never free themselves from the howling pack.

Because when you’ve joined the pack
you’ll never get your soul clean
or cut the cords of that binding web,
the strands that tighten like a band
about your throat. No logic
can pull you free of the poisonous froth.

The wolves are rabid, frothing
at the mouth, infecting the pack
with their bitter illogic.
Everything is utterly unclean
and decency has simply been banned,
the bonds of friendship lost in the web.

Find yourself in the center of the web
of prayers that surround you like a froth
of apple blossom, listen for the band
that plays a different melody, a pack
that will keep its hopeful music clean
and seek the source of logic.

Trust your heart’s logic.
Cast your prayers and spin your web.
If you want to keep your soul clean,
close your ears to the bitter froth
and the howling of the pack.
Follow a more ancient band.

This band will follow heart-logic.
This pack will spin a new web.
The froth of a new spring will make you clean.

*Oy. I am sick of that word “froth.” Ick. And “clean” settles the poem too much into a religious experience, and the whole thing feels a little high and mighty now that I am done. Still, I love writing sestinas. I think I’ll have my Creative Writing crew do sestinas next semester.

Gratitude List:
1. Zootopia–We watched it at Wrightsville Elementary tonight. It was a little hard to hear because the kids in the back of the gym kept up a bit of a ruckus. But a good movie with a bit of a pointed point to it.
2. Music chapel. Always incredible. We sometimes have professional musicians in chapel, and they’re sometimes pretty good, but I don’t think anyone enjoys them as much as we do when our own students are creating music. I think the proper terminology to describe Ben’s guitar-playing was “serious shredding.” It was fantastic. I sometimes feel like I am at an arts school.
3. Sometimes things happen in class that you just don’t plan for. Today in one class of struggling readers, a fairly incidental character appeared in the book we’re reading and a student wanted to stop and talk about him, so we talked about how the Mexican farm workers felt safer going to Mr. Yakuta’s market. “Just like Donald Woods,” said the student. I thought it was a wild leap, but I asked him to explain. “They felt safe with Mr.Yakuta, like Biko felt safe with Donald Woods.” Wow.  “Yeah,” said another student, “and like that coach in the movie Radio. Radio felt safe with the coach.” And suddenly we were into a conversation about safe people, about how we want to be the safe people, like Mr. Yakuta, and Donald Woods and the coach. They made the connections. Powerfully.
4. Experimenting with words
5. Chocolate.

May we walk in Beauty!

The Flow of Meaning

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Sun splintered by the trees by the Millstream this morning.

Today’s prompt is to write a paper poem:

The Flow of Meaning
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Your thoughts, like birds
will flow
across the clear sky
of your mind,

like marks of a scribe
will seep
across the white page
of your dreams,

and meaning will form
from the patterns
that resolve as words
upon the page,

that whirl in the dusk
like a flock of starlings,
separating,
merging,
flowing as one being.

Gratitude List:
1. Pippi the Prius is fixed and out of the shop. It felt sort of like going to pick up a beloved old dog at the vet. There’s something not quite right with the battery. I’m hoping that it’s just because she’s been sitting so much of the time that she’s been getting fixed, and it’ll work itself out. The man at the shop said that it was within 75 cents of being totaled, so they put the detailing stripe on with a decal instead of paint, and gave that to us for free. I am grateful for that quarter we had to spare. And for the crew who fixed her up good as new.
2. Autumn sun, morning and evening, sparkling through the trees, skipping down the fields.
3. Making plans, fortifying, resolving
4. Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus”
5. Finding my way into the new dreams

May we walk in Beauty!

Play

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Today’s prompt is to write a poem titled “Play _Blank_”

Play Me for a Fool
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Play me for a fool and I may seek for wisdom
Play my secret songs and I will hear your voice
Play the wind against my hair and I might sigh with pleasure
Play the tired longings of a thousand hearts

Play the ancient rhythms of the forest
Play the wild music of the stars
Play the quiet dreamings of a toad in summer rain
Play the simple melody of childhood’s happy hours

Feels like it needs another stanza with a shift in rhythm and a last word, but I am falling asleep.

Gratitude List:
1. Anchors
2. Rhythm
3. Dreams
4. Wisdom
5. Listening

May we walk in Beauty!

(Un)Natural

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Today’s prompt is a two-fer: write a natural/unnatural poem.

(Un)Natural
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

He would seem to be the most (un)-
natural choice to advise the lead-
er of the free world. He has ex-
perience leading the campaign and un-
paralleled gall and pretense.

How many steps does it take to es-
calate the normalizing test of o-
bedience? To groom the public, to in-
culcate the people with the anes-
thetizing waves of constant down-
ward steps, until all resistance is fu-
tile?

Gratitude List:
1. Heidi was right. Sometimes carbs are what you need. That sourdough bread she gave me was out of this world, and just the medicine for the moment.
2. Safety and symbols of safety.
3. Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Sophie Scholl
4. Sunset on the way home this evening. Such clouds.
5. Those fire bushes in the woods and how they sparkle in the morning light.

May we walk in Beauty!

Ode to History in the Hospital

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My grandmother’s hands.

The prompt today is to write an ode or a poem dedicated to someone or something. I’ll do another in my series of History poems. I can hardly bear to remember the last one I wrote, on the eve of the Election. Poor History. She was looking so hopeful that night.

For History in the Hospital
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

She doesn’t look happy to see me.
I place the flowers on her windowsill
between a Get Well Soon balloon
and a giant teddy bear holding a red heart.

“I thought you said I didn’t have to
repeat myself–” she says. (“Repeat myself.”)
Her face is black and blue and she’s missing her front teeth.
She’s been beaten up before, I know.
Left for dead in alleyways,
trampled by the paparazzi,
mugged by dictators and tyrants.
She’ll recover. She will go on to watch it happen
again and again and again.

But this one was so sudden,
such a quick attack, and she didn’t see it coming,
despite her long association with herself.
I feel like I am partly to blame, somehow.

“I should be just a bystander,” she whispers.
“A bystander. But this kind always knocks me down.
Knocks me down.” She looks at me over the top of her spectacles.

What can I tell her? “I don’t know what to do,”
I say, the helplessness catching in my throat.

And there she is, doing what she’s done all along,
since the beginning of History herself:
she comforts me from within her own misery.
“You’ll think of something. I’ve got to get off this
whirling merry-go-round. It’s just not so merry anymore.”

I nod. “Not so merry anymore,” she repeats.

**********
Some suggestions for myself (and you, if you want to join me):
1. Listen to music. Music heals, as Andrea Gibson says.
2. Commit to careful, reasoned thinking before posting and re-posting.
3. Commit to careful, reasoned thinking before responding to those who disagree. Remember that we’re here to open doors for the Great Mystery in each other.
4. Check out some Joe Biden memes.
5. Hug someone you love.
6. Look into people’s eyes.
7. Stretch. Actually physically stretch. Often.
8. Breathe.
9. Listen to the pain and rage around you, but don’t take it on your shoulders.
10. Find your anchors, the people who keep you from floating away in the rage and the grief.
11. Re-read Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ “You Were Made for This.”

Gratitude List:
1. Soft tacos for supper: kale and broccoli, onions, cheese, beans.
2. The regular chiming of Grandma’s clock. When I cleaned the house, I decided to wind it up and get it ticking again.
3. Sleep. I always seem to need more of it during the dark season.
4. Forging pathways
5. Bridges. All the bridges we build, the bridges we cross.

May we walk in Beauty!