gratitude

Wood, Bees, and Dandelion Wine

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Gratitude List:
1.  The Wood Song by the Indigo Girls.  In my late 20s, this song was like an anthem to me, a mantra of a song.  Here in mid-life, it hits me again with such incredible power.  “If the weather holds, then we’ll have missed the point.  That’s where I need to go.”  Yeah, I can think of maybe a dozen of their songs that have been transformative for me.
2.  Bees.  The Queen is dreaming.  Inside the hive is a hum, holding their Lady in the warmth of their wings.  May the bees thrive.
3.  Doing handwork with my boy.
4.  It’s been a few weeks since I saw it, but I can’t get the image out of my mind of a Great Blue Heron crouched low in the corner of the pond where the biggest spring trickles in with its warmer waters.  That corner of the pond only freezes in the very coldest of temperatures, and the Great Blue likes the little spa it provides.  There’s faerie magic there, I think.
5.  Dandelion wine.  Have I put that on the list several times in the last week?  This stuff is home crafted by a friend.  Tooth of the Lion in the middle of winter.  That’s a sacrament, I think.

May we walk in Beauty.

Resistance and the Giveaway Gnome

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 2 Comments

Before I had children, no one told me how sneaky I would have to become as a parent.  How, in order to keep the house from folding in on itself from all the doodads and detritus and general junk accumulated at an alarming rate by the wee ones I would need to make regular trips through the house when the children are away or asleep in order to gather up bits and pieces and odds and ends to toss or give away.  How the sound of that sweet little wonder-filled voice in the breezeway next to the giveaway boxes would strike frustration to the core of me: “Oh!  I remember this!”  This being a hard plastic Garfield tchotchke with a head that rotates on some sort of spring mechanism, only the spring part is broken, and the nameplate on the base has begun to wear off, leaving the letters “arf.”  (Please don’t dig any deeper in that bag, please. . .)

So what a surprise today when we were cleaning and tidying, and all of a sudden my gadget-obsessed seven-year-old was handing me his entire collection of broken calculators, and the four-year-old gave away all the Angry Birds kitsch he scored at a birthday party two weeks ago.

These kids are so often little walls of resistance, using every tool they can create to define their own parameters, to make their choices their own.  I am finding that there’s an exquisite balance here–to nurture and bless their autonomy while also giving them the boundaries they need in order to thrive.  Sometimes my refusal to budge creates greater walls, creates defiance.  And sometimes their resistance is simply rote reaction, and all they need is a little push from me.

I don’t like to be forced to give up my stuff either, but occasionally I would be glad of a little gnome wandering through my house at night and packing off a handful of projects that haven’t seen the light of day for months or years.  She just needs to get them out of the house before I wake up and see them: “Oh!  I remember this!”

Gratitude List:
1.  Being considered for the job, even if it’s not my skill set.
2.  Cleaning out
3.  Clearing up
4.  Seed Catalogs
5.  Nothing is Written in Stone

May we walk in Beauty.

In the Hall of the Disappearing Creatures

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<Prompt 30:  Last One.  Write a Disappearing Poem> An interesting piece of synchronicity: someone declared today (Nov. 30) to be the International Day of Remembrance for Lost Species.

One black rhino falls on the Savannah.
Deep in shadowed jungles,
the Formosan clouded leopard
winks out of time.
Poor old Lonesome George,
the last Pinta Island Tortoise,
slowly ages to stone.  And gone.
Celia, the last Pyrenean Ibex, taking
one last breath beneath a quivering acacia
on a windswept, sunset plain.

The Japanese river otter.  The Liverpool Pigeon.
The Eastern cougar.  Javan Tiger.  Golden Toad.

The Ivory-Billed. . .don’t say it.
The Ivory. . .no, not yet.
Keep that door open yet a little longer.
Listen for the wheep and cluck
deep in the swamp.  Watch
for that flash of white through the mosses.

2013 November 210
From the State Museum of PA

Gratitude List:
1.  Hope
2.  Warmth
3.  Light
4.  Art
5.  This moment.

May we walk in Beauty.

Commercial

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<Prompt 29: Write a Commercial Poem> Oy.  I’m tired.  Here’s a toss-off:

Face it.  You’re not good enough,
not clean enough, not nice enough,
not beautiful.

You need more stuff to fill you up,
to ease your grief, to fit your need,
to fill the hole.

Don’t you feel that blinding ache,
relentless need, the restless urge,
desire’s pull?

Just buy more stuff, just do your part
to keep the Corporation in the black,
to meet our goals.

Gratitude List:
1. Venus!  She is so big and bright she makes me want to grab my frankincense, saddle up the camels and slouch off to Bethlehem with the other rough beasts.
2. Day trip to the State Museum of PA.  We got a membership to all the state museums for half price, and free parking for the day, to boot.  It was wonderful and educational.
3. The Bird People of the Susquehannocks.  Carved as glyphs into the rocks into the middle of the river, wings spread and soaring.  Carved standing into shell and bone, wings folded, beaked faces watchful.
4. Reading Anne of Green Gables to the boys.
5. You.  Have I said that yet? I am so very grateful for you.

May we walk in Beauty.

All is Well

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<Prompt 28: Write a Bird Poem>

Laughter hovers like a bird
in the listening air around us.
Chuckles like feathers
float around the room,
and all is well for this breath.
And for this one.

The air crackles and rustles
with the winged ones watching.
And all is well.
All is well for this moment.


Gratitude List:
1.  You.  Just You.
2.  Because how knowing you makes me be a better me.
3.  Because you make me see colors and hear sounds and taste flavors that I wouldn’t have understood without you.
4.  Because you make sense of things that I can’t make sense of.
5.  Because you ask the right questions, and don’t always have the answers, but sometimes you do.

May we walk together in Beauty.

Wherever You Stand

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 2 Comments

<Poetry Prompt 24: Write a poem that responds to a statement or quote>

“Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place.” ~ Rumi

Be the spark, the knowingness,
the mother of the moment,
be the dream, the home, and the hope.

Wherever you stand, be the stone
and the wind.  Yes, be the wind
in the trees of the soul of a place.

Wherever you stand, be a memory,
a hope of the future remembering
how
once
we all lived together in peace.

Gratitude List:
1.  CaringBridge.com –A wonderful communication tool to keep friends and communities updated on the health of someone who is in critical need of prayer and caring.
2.  Stories of forgiveness, of grace, of communities and people choosing the higher path.  Perhaps when I feel the need of vengeance, I can be inspired to instead follow in their steps.
3.  Watching Ellis become absorbed in minute crafting details.
4.  Candles and prayer
5.  Cornmeal mush

May we walk in Beauty.

Aunt Eliza’s Advice for Lost Children

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 1 Comment

<Prompt 13: Write a Self-Help Poem>  Oooh.  I am tired, but I am loving the wildness of where this one is going.  So I will write down what I have and come back to it later.

Once upon a time there lived a golden child
who followed a trail of bright flowers
deep into the heart of the forest.

That’s you, in case you hadn’t picked it up,
and the forest is the life you are wandering in.
This is the story you chose for your own
in those rainbow days before you were born.

Oh, for most of us, and much of the time,
the forest is fairly navigable, and not too scary.
But sometimes we get caught in the brambles,
overwhelmed by the shadows, befriended
by suave and creepy fellows in wolfskin.

We forget how to find our way,
forget that we are the main character,
the child of the glorious day,
forget our identity,
forget our destiny, our star
forget how to follow our guides,
forget who they are.

So step into the clearing, Dearies.
Have a seat by the fire.
Here’s a little advice:

Keep following the flowers,
the butterflies, the little birds,
whatever drew you in here in the first place.

Go ahead and flirt with the wolves,
but don’t give them Grandma’s address.

Breaking and entering is still
breaking and entering, Sweetie,
even if it’s a cute little cottage.
You never know what’s in the oatmeal.

Listen to the doll your mother gave you.
Your mother’s voice inside yourself
will always lead you true.

Beware of riddling with old women.
Always remember your manners,
and always be kinder than necessary.

There’s a happily-ever-after
right around the bend,
but you might have to travel
half a lifetime and complete
three impossible tasks
to reach it.

 

Gratitude List:
1.  Appearing in a friend’s dream.  I feel like my day and night selves are working in tandem.
2.  Cozy clothes on a cold day
3.  Sourdough bread–I finally got the stuff baked, after two and a half days of proofing and rising and prepping.
4. Coalescence
5.  Irridescence

May we walk in Beauty.

Throw Myself in

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<Prompt 12: Two in one–Write a happy poem, and then write sad>  I’ve wandered a little far afield with this one.  The idea for a Passion/Calm poem started to work on me this morning as I was headed to work, and I decided to follow that rather than the specific happy/sad prompt.

Now I realize that I must fling myself
into the center of my life
with a fierce intensity
and passionate joy
or risk dissipation.

And all while holding the center,
embodying the nature of the tree.
This, too, helps to hold it all together.

That still small place cannot exist for me
without the passion that feeds it.
Nor can I maintain the fire
without the quiet and glowing core.

Gratitude List:
1.  Venus.  At least I think that’s who it is, like a bright flower, these nights.
2. Warm hen eggs on cold fingers
3.  My sourdough starter fluffied up.  Tomorrow, sourdough bread.  Mean while, my mother’s amazing banana bread.  My brother is running a marathon on Sunday, so I am carb-loading for him.
4.  John Tavener.  May he be finding the deeply spiritual music he always sought.
5.  White sage and rehmannia root and lavender and hyssop.  Dandelion root and birch bark and whole dried chilis and lemon balm and St. John’s Wort.  Peppermint and elecampane root and dried elderberries and hawthorn berries and juniper berries.  Chamomile and jasmine and helichrysm blossoms.  I weighed and packaged herbs today at Radiance.  What a marvelous day.

Blessings on the blossom.  Blessings on the root.  Blessings on the leaf and stem.  Blessings on the fruit.

The Other Names

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<Prompt 9: Write a Poem titled “The Other _____”>  I feel like this one is only a sort of a beginning, but it will have to suffice for today.

What if the other name of God is Magic?
If the other name for Magic is Science?
Is Wonder, is Awe, is Hope?

What if the other name of Goddess is Art?
Is Music, is wailing, is howling, is bells,
is the sound of the wind in the branches?

What if you call out Oh Beauty!  Oh Marvel!
and the Voice Ineffable answers, Yes.  I Am.

Or this: What if the other name for Divine is
I Want, is I Need, is I Can’t Take It Anymore?
And you call it out and the Mystery
at the Heart of Everything answers
I Am Here.

 

Gratitude List:
1.  York’s amazing musicians and artists and poets.  What an honor it was to share the stage with such intense forces of artistry.
2.  How everybody’s secret nests are suddenly so visible, so vulnerable, without the leaf-cover.
3.  Betsy’s words about what the farm means.  This has been a day to feel deeply honored by the ways people feel a connection to this piece of land.
4.  Tomorrow we are buying a family fish, and the boys are anticipating it like Christmas.  Thank you, Sandra.
5.  Revising, re-visioning

Blessings on the roots.

Weathervane

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<Prompt 8: Write a poem about an inanimate object>

Sentinel upon the rooftop,
proud in his green patina,
in his view of the valley’s upper story.

We make up stories about a rooster
who challenged the sun and the wind
with his shiny feathers
and powerful crow, the poor boaster
doomed to tell the changeable mood
of the wind for eternity, screeching
from E to N, to south, to west.

I am inexplicably grouchy and edgy tonight.  These are the times when a gratitude list is really hard.  These are the times when a gratitude list is really important.

Gratitude List:
1.  My fingers and toes are toasty again.
2.  Jon Weaver-Kreider.  He works so hard, and still manages to keep us all laughing.
3.  Rooster Weathervane
4.  Schnoogly cats
5.  The sharp tang of radish

Blessings on the roots.