Mist, Moon, Mist

Poem from a year or so ago:
Prayers and Rage
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

What can we give besides our prayers and rage?
And what will that avail?
Send out the story on October winds.
Fling it high, where crows are flying.
Send the message echoing into earth
with every pounding step you take.

Let the shells of your ears gather the story.
Reel in the gossamer strands of the tale
and weave them into the veil you wear.
Listen for the stories of those who weep,
those who rage, those who only speak
with the shrug of a shoulder,
with a sigh, with a shudder.

Listen, too, to those who walk right in,
who step into your circle without invitation.
Listen to the voices that are hard to hear.
Offer only the bread that is yours to give.
Be like the old gods, with the raven Wisdom
on one shoulder and Memory on the other,
and Reason perched upon your hat.

Offer what is yours:
your rage,
your prayer,
your watchful quiet heart.

And another, more thematically whimsical:
Duck, duck, goose.
Goose, goose, wren.
Mist, moon, mist.

Gratitude List:
1. Finding my way again to deep breath.
2. Chilly autumn rain. Yes, really. The melancholy of a rainy fall day can be satisfying even for sanguine personalities.
3. While I have never been a big fan of the cold season, I love wearing layers and leggings, and that season has returned, and so I feel much more comfortable in clothing.
4. This full-spectrum lamp that Jon bought to help boost us through the coming winter. Light-bathing.
5. The distinctly autumn sounds of the calls of geese and jays and crows. I feel my animal self more distinctly in these days, pulling between the longing to migrate and the longing to hunker down and burrow in.

Much love. Blessings on your Day!

Live the Questions

Rhapsody Part 7 – Mary Oliver

If you are in the garden, I will dress myself in leaves.
If you are in the sea I will slide into that
smooth blue nest, I will talk fish, I will adore salt.
But if you are sad, I will not dress myself in desolation.
I will present myself with all the laughters I can muster.
And if you are angry I will come, calm and steady, with
some small and easy story.
Promises, promises, promises! The tongue jabbers, the heart
strives, fails, strives again. The world is perfect.
Love, however,
is an opera, a history, a long walk, that
includes falling and rising, falling and rising, while
the heart stays as sweet as a peach, as radiant and
grateful as the deep leaved hills.
“You either walk inside your story & own it or you stand outside your story & hustle for your worthiness.” ~BRENÉ BROWN
Duck, duck, goose.
Goose, goose, wren.
Mist, moon, mist.
–Beth Weaver-Kreider
“Live the question now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some day into the answer.” –Rainer Maria Rilke
“and if i hear one more time
about a fool’s rights
to his tools of rage
I’m gonna take all my friends
and I’m gonna move to Canada
and we’re gonna die of old age” –Ani Difranco

Gratitude List:
1. Biking by the River, north of Marietta
2. Science Saturday: We made three kinds of slime/gak, and also oobleck
3. Getting enough sleep
4. Inspiring ideas (this time from a TED talk)
5. How cats are like dragons. I feel like we live with little fluffy house-dragons. Inscrutable. Demanding. Condescending. But tender by turns.

May we walk in Beauty!

To Have Enough

“The story of any one of us is in some measure the story of us all.” –Frederick Buechner
“Those who are willing to break a conspiracy of silence are guaranteed to meet with the disapproval of others. Having a dissenting voice naturally exiles you from the group, but this rejection is a validation of the bravery having such a standpoint requires. It’s also a marvelous training in originality and acts as an agent of attrition. It teaches you who and what is in alignment with your integrity, strengthening those affinities within and without. It’s important during such times of change to practice self-love, comforting the brave & terrified rebel within who doesn’t want to be alone and grieves those losses none the less.” –Dreamwork with Toko-pa
“To make a living is not to make a killing. It’s to have enough.” –Wendell Berry
“None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an afterthought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.” –Nanea Hoffman
“God is love, without asterisks.”  –Father Stratis
“Poetry is a life-cherishing force, for poems are not words, after all, but fires for the coal, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread for the hungry.” –Mary Oliver
Written on seeing a photo of that circle bridge in Germany: “Always she went through her days with a feeling of being a half, an arc. The bridge of her spirit went out from herself to the world, most certainly, yet somehow all seemed partial, unfinished. There came a bright golden October morning when she looked outward to see the way her own story was reflected everywhere. In the flight of wren from stalk of goldenrod to quivering branch of sycamore. In the calling back and forth of the owls in the bamboo wood. In the branching willow withes reaching to touch the surface of the pond. And suddenly the circle was complete.” –Beth Weaver-Kreider
“Poetry begins as a lump in the throat . . . a homesickness, a lovesickness.” –Robert Frost
“Poetry seduces you and entices you into being a searcher for the Mystery yourself. It creates the heart leap, the gasp of breath, inspiring you to go further and deeper; you want to fill in the blanks for yourself.” –Richard Rohr
“To see a world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower.”
–William Blake

Gratitude List:
1. Golden mornings
2. How the light shines through
3. October
4. The table is Wide
5. Open hearts and arms

May we walk in Beauty!

October Says

2013 November 210

October says,
How the light will


will bathe you in shimmer.
See how light
caresses each molecule–
each metaphor–

how it holds you
in its shine?

Gratitude List:
1. Rivers of song.  Webs of song.  Bridges of song.  How singing together holds us all.  Friday Faculty Hymn Sing.
2. Last night’s Unicef Trick-or-Treat party at school.  They planned it, prepared it, and pulled it off admirably.  AND they cleaned up.  Thoroughly.  If I had a dime for every time some shining teenager came up to me yesterday and asked what they could do to help, I’d be able to take myself out to dinner.  (I accidentally typed “teeneager” there, and that would have been appropriate, too.)
3. Last night’s dream: a warm, well-lit coffeehouse by the River, and me with plenty of time to go and sit and be there with Jon.
4. Baby cheetah asleep last night when I got home, all stretched out on his napping dad.  Little panther up and in costume first thing in the morning.  This yearly opportunity for the kids to think about their alter egos, to explore these deeper  bits of themselves.  Sometimes they are robots or boxes.  It is nice to have wildcats in the house this year.
5. How we are all in this together, you and me and the rest of us.  How you teach me, give me ideas, help me to let go of my stereotypes and old-worn ideas in order to grasp newer, more helpful ways of encountering the world.  Keep me accountable.  Remind me always to keep becoming my better self.

May we walk in Beauty!



I think I have written before about how my poems often want to begin with the word so, as if I am beginning right in the middle of the conversation that you and I are having, and the poem itself is a continuation of thought rather than its own new thing.  Lately, when a poem starts to shape itself in the back of my brain, it wants to begin with because.  Do my poems want to justify themselves?  Defend their need to be?  Or are they themselves trying to explain the world to me?  Because the maple tree caught fire against the blue sky. . .  Because you were listening to the owl in the early morning. . .  The oddest thing about this particular compulsion is that when I look back to my poems at this time last year, because is a featured word there, too.  I wonder if October seeks for reasons.

Because October seeks a reason,
because the owl called down that crescent of a moon,
because I cannot get those words you said
to settle down in the room of my head.

Because of the way the stories grow inside us,
telling themselves in our sleep,
waiting to be taken by the hand
and led into the golden glare
of October afternoons.

Gratitude List:
1. October
2. Digging out of the hole
3. Sleep
4. Wrist warmers
5. Inhabiting the story

May we walk in Beauty!  Because.