Plunder

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 2 Comments

Today’s prompt is to use at least three of these words in a poem: lagoon, plunder, artifact, wobble, relent, horrendous.  I love these.  They pull me out of my ruts.

After the relentless storm and plunder,
after the horrendous calm,
she searches the silent pools,
she scours the quiet caves of the lagoon,
she watches the gulls winging down the beach,

seeking for surviving artifacts
shining fragments that glint in the sunlight,
pearls scattered in the glistening sands.

The hunt for the missing pieces
occupies her haggard attention
and draws her thoughts away from the loss.

Salvage becomes her salvation.

Giving Back

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eat veggies

Gratitude List:
1. Giving.  Today is Lancaster’s Extraordinary Give, a community celebration of local groups and organizations that do good work in the world.  Here is the link to my school’s page.  If you click on the title at the top of the page, you can see the other organizations involved.  You can also see that since the giving opened at midnight 6 hours ago, already over half a million dollars has been donated to helpful organizations.
2. My friend Daryl Snider’s chapel presentation at school yesterday.  Open-hearted and thoughtful–the kids were engaged.  And I woke up this morning with his song in my head, “Yours are the eyes I see in the mirror.  Yours are the cries I hear in my sleep.  <I can’t pull out the words to the next bit>  Because you are I and I am you.”  We are all connected.
3. The helpers.  These people often find their way onto my list.  I can imagine nothing more hopeful and sustaining in the face of that which angers and terrifies us than the quiet and powerful work of those who simply step up and into the breach, reaching out their hands.  People in many places will try to use our fear and rage and despair to distract us, but the helpers are ignoring the fear-mongers and getting down to work.  And if our own stories or fears or needs keep us from stepping right up to the front line with the helpers, we can still reach out our hands to hold them, to make a net of support for the work that they do.
4. The coming break.  Fall is a bit of a long stretch for teachers, with fewer natural breaks than the spring.  The challenge is important, but it’s nice to see the end of this tunnel.
5. Late fall crops.  I got home yesterday, and Jon and the crew had set up the market room for the first of our fall pick-ups: broccoli, cauliflower, arugula, radishes, spinach, sweet potatoes. . .  Time to feast.

May we walk in Love.

“No Ideas but in Things”

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Today’s prompt is to follow William Carlos Williams’ thought, “No ideas but in things,” and write a thing-poem. I have no wheelbarrow, no jar in Tennessee, no plums in the icebox.  I am obsessed with bowls.

Is it the way the light shines
on the concave surface of the blue bowl,
or the way the shadows gather
underneath its curving belly?

Or is it, rather, about the beach pebbles
and the shell with its iridescent green
resting in its sheltered slopes?

Perhaps it is the memory of wet clay,
the hands that scooped and stretched,
that shaped and fashioned its elegant contours.

How it settles, how it breathes in the lamplight,
how it speaks my name when I pass by.

The Peacemakers are Rising

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No prompt again this morning.  I can forgive him–I am sometimes a little behind, too.

Here’s a Gratitude List:
1. The helpers, people who dive in to rescue the refugees from their boats, who help to resettle people here, who offer a bottle of water, a piece of fruit, an encouraging word.
2. The rising clamor of voices calling for peaceful solutions and responses.  The peacemakers are rising.
3. The student who came to me for help in redrafting her college entrance exam–she wants to become a nurse so she can have skills to offer in places around the world where people are suffering.
4. Love.  It casts out fear.
5. Again, that fantastic formation of starlings that wheels and swirls above the hollow.  We can create a beautiful dance, too, when we fly together.

Let’s raise our voices in the name of Compassion, Beauty, and Peace.

Lightbulb

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Today’s prompt came late, after I had begun my school day, so I’m only getting to it now.  The prompt is to write an idea poem.

God is disruptive, he told us.
That’s a new one, I thought.

Perhaps that’s how it ought to be,
he said, not letting you settle
too deeply into the ruts,
pushing you off your perch,
disturbing your equilibrium,
subverting your comfort zone.

She chases me out into the desert,
colors me out of the lines,
thinks me out of the box.
How else should I want it,
I, who choose the savannah
over the closed cathedral?

I’m not entirely sure that this is true to me.  Perhaps for those of us who choose the fields rather than the boxes, the disruption comes in the form of those who would try to reel us in and lock us into their claustrophobic rooms.  This is actually the disruption that I experienced this past week, though I am not sure I would connect it to the message from a disruptive Godde.

Small Ones

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DSCN8731
This was from the first of November.

No poetry prompt yet this morning.  I’ll post that later, but I have to get off to school, now.

Gratitude List:
1. New chapters in the book
2. A murmuration in the hollow
3. Hobbits.  When Tolkien needed someone to place in the face of the great rising evil in his story, he chose the small ones.  You and I are the small ones, friends.  Let’s join hands and stand together.  Let’s work together, speak together, sing and whisper and shout together.
4. Short bursts of energy in the long jog
5. A good story to listen to on the way to and from school.

May we walk in Beauty!

Ode to a Flock of Crows

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Too much in a hurry to seek out a birdy sort of photo for today.  Here’s a picture of the late fall farm season.

On the Two-for Tuesday prompts, I usually try to combine the two pieces of the prompt, to let the opposite ideas create a dynamic tension in the poem.  Plus, I hate to feel as though I am missing out on any part of an experience.  Today’s is a little more complicated, and I might just have to settle for one piece.  We’ll see what happens.  Here’s the prompt:

 

  1. Take the phrase “Ode to a (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.
  2. Take the phrase “(blank) is for the Birds,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.

How they wheel and settle,
wheel and settle.
Their business is their own.

When the trees along the tracks
have lost their leaves,
and reach their naked branches
into the salmon-colored sky,
their crowns fill with crows.
Connect the dots,
a web of birds fills the world.

These are the people of the wind,
the warriors of autumn.
Watching them, even I
can turn my face toward the winter.

Gratitude List:
1. The crowd of crows.  I always feel like I have to qualify this for the people who have to live more closely with them, because I, too, get tired of the purple pokeberry splotches all over my car from the starling flock in the hollow, but I love the crows that wheel and settle in the trees near the mall.  I love seeing them just as the sky is beginning to turn orange, and they dot the treetops and electrical wires.
2. Challengers.  They give you a chance to look at your internal world, and remind you to keep checking in with yourself and to be faithful to your inner truth.
3. Compassionate hearts.
(I wasn’t really going for a C theme today, but now I think I need to finish it out.)
4. Coffee.  It gets me through the morning.
5. Creativity.  Building up and creating are a great antidote to despair and rage.

May we walk in Beauty!

Haunting

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2012 February 058

Today’s prompt is to write a haunted poem.

Everything leaves its imprint,
like the stain of a leaf long-gone to soil
which moldered on the concrete walk
leaving its shadow for another season’s grace.

Your very atoms press against the air,
push through the space around you.
Why should the sense of you be gone
when you are gone?  Why shouldn’t your image
remain behind to haunt the space you filled?

When you turn a corner you will see them,
in those rooms you inhabit inside your soul,
shifting lights and shadows,
mirages or reflections.

Listen for the whispering:
“I was here. I will always be here.”

Gratitude List:
1. Richard Rohr.  Remember, it’s about grace.
2. The Subversive Jesus.  Who is throwing stones?
3. Earthshine.  Have you seen how we light up the moon, even when she is only a sliver?
4. Meeting the day.
5. You.  How you receive the world with open arms.  How you do not judge the worthiness of others or separate people into categories or close doors to keep some out and to lock others in.  How you remind me that there are still people who walk in the way of grace.

May we walk with Great Grace.

Wait for the Story

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2011 June 227

Today’s prompt is to write a ritual poem.  This is one of my favorite words.  I love internal preparations for sacred and holy moments.  Here is one pathway inward:

It’s a room that you enter, a space you create.
Settle your roots: down, down and deeper,
raising your branches out into starlight.

Breath first, the winds and the breezes,
scent of the morning, shelter of dawn,
many voices calling, whispering, singing.

Feel your fire rising,
energy lifting your spirit like flame.
Burn.  Let desire be the fuel.

The river flows through you, around you, within you:
quiet meandering, raging through rapids.
Gaze deep into pools for the answers you seek.

Stand firmly on earth.  Let it hold you and shape you.
Enter the cave which leads to your center.
Rock is your reason.  Soil is your mentor.

Enter the labyrinth, spiral to center.
You come to the crossroads, the meeting of pathways:
Rest in the shadows.  The story will find you.

 

Gratitude List:
1. Play
2. Work
3. Song
4. Art
5. Well-being

May we walk in Beauty!

Meeting The Guardian

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girl-with-death-mask-221x300
Girl With Death Mask, by Frida Kahlo

I have never seen this one before.  I post it today because it is one of the images that Robert Brewer offers as inspiration for writing an ekphrastic poem (a poem inspired by or connected to an image).

You have been walking through desert for centuries,
walking for hundreds of miles toward mountains.
Suddenly there in your path stands the guardian.

Every quest, every dream, every task has its challenger–
She who will stand at the gate of your destiny,
waiting to ask you the questions you came for:

What is the thing that you fear?  Can you face it?
What is the name of the monster that haunts you?
Can you look death in the eye and say, “Feed Me”?

If She reveals Herself at your parting,
you must be ready to hold what She offers you:
a small golden aster and three white-hot stones.

Gratitude List:
1. The principals at my school.  They’re thoughtful, supportive, restorative, and they have a keen and careful vision for the school community.
2. This morning a small boy asked me to do stretches with him, like they do in school every morning.  I love that his teacher is teaching them to stretch as well as to read.
3. Challengers.  I am trying really hard to turn this one into a gratitude.  Deep, deep down, I truly am actually grateful for yesterday’s challenger moment.  (Perhaps I need to do some more stretches to help that bit of gratitude bubble upward.)
4. Autumn wind: it calls me to adventure.
5. The helpers.  All those people in Paris and Beirut who ran to help, who offered safe houses, who hugged and held and helped.  It seems to be too much of a truth today that some people will lash out and try to harm.  But as much of a truth and greater is that more people will rush in to help and to heal.  May it always be so.

May we carry healing with us wherever we go.