Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Wind is in the Willow Tree

The wind is in the willow tree
frost is on the ground
all the lovers light their fires
in this little town

The wind is in the willow tree
all the stars are bright
and the owl's glowing eyes
are small moons in the night

The wind is in the willow tree
silence lays beyond
the zephyr in her weaving arms
throws leaves across the pond

The wind is in the willow tree
the bed is close and warm
but shrouded by her gentle sighs
is prophecy of the storm

Friday, November 9, 2012

Pearl-Colored Sky

I should have stayed in bed
~ that pearl-colored sky
filled me with optimism
the bright silver bulb of the sun
shone behind
opalescent clouds
~ calm stillness
hinting that anything at all is possible

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Fall Feeling

I have a fall feeling;

warm cider and pumpkins
hanging at the edge of my vision
a fall breeze promising me
cool nights, crisp mornings
and the crackling of dry leaves underfoot

One corner of my mind
is already
lighting the jack-o-lantern
and painting my witchy eyes black

~ already laughing
at children
stone-drunk on candy
their ghoul-smeared faces
hung-over from sugar
at the breakfast table
next morning

~ already crawling
under covers
to tuck shivering feet
into the nook of his knees
and lay my forehead on the smooth of his back
and know
I am safe and warm and loved






Monday, July 16, 2012

Pumpkin Patch

I have a pumpkin patch, though not through my own effort, desire, or design. My kids planted it this spring based on a Native American planting system termed The Three Sisters where corn, pole beans, and pumpkins are planted together. Corn, a heavy feeder, benefits from the beans which bring nitrogen into the soil. In turn, the corn stalks provide the perfect climbing frame for beans. Pumpkin plants, light feeders, provide shade to the corn and beans. These three foods, purportedly staples of native cultures that provided storable crops for winter, were planted thus to capitalize on symbiosis.

Growing in our garden this year, where we don't have much else planted, the Three Sisters thrive. Cleverly planted in integrative harmony, each providing support, nourishment, and caring to the others, they seem very like a family. It's been fun to watch them grow--particularly as this has not been an easy year for growing things not only in our region but all over the world. High heat is crippling much of the US and where it is not drought conditions there have been freak storms and flooding. One wishes there were a way to scoop up all that flood water up and deposit it on the hard-baked dirt, rutted with crevasses in the drought regions.

For plants to survive this kind of weather, they do rely on human intervention.

I looked out the window yesterday afternoon and my harmonic, happy plant family was wilted. The pumpkin patch looked downtrodden, drooping in the heat, and the edges of the corn leaves were dry and brittle. It was 95 degrees, not hot for us for July, but far hotter than I prefer. However, having seen the state of things, I knew I would never be able to sleep that night if I didn't get out and water the garden.

It was hot, as I said, so I donned the only appropriate apparel, a bikini, and ventured out. I dragged the hose up the yard, waded deep into the wilted pumpkin leaves and turned the soaker on them. It made me feel better to be doing it. I imagined the cool sensation I always feel when suddenly relieved of unbearable heat, I imagined a desperate thirst being quenched by cold water.

There were pumpkins hiding everywhere amongst the foliage. I have no idea what we will do with them all, should they survive to be ripe and edible, but it was a joy just to see them; dark green globes with pale streaks of lighter green and just the beginning shading of orange in places. There were beans as well, climbing up the stalks and the first thickening of corn ears showed at various junctions.

I love to garden and haven't been able to do much of it lately. It may have been that love-induced absorption in plant-life that prevented me from hearing the distant rumble and roll of the thunder. I first became aware of the storm when raindrops began to fall, warm as bathwater and the size of dimes. I thought about hanging up the soaker and heading indoors, but it was not clear from the partially over-cast sky how much rain would be falling. I opted to persevere, thinking too much water would probably be better than too little.

That is how my twelve-year-old daughter found me. The front door flung open as she popped her head out into the rain and shouted, "Mom! What are you doing?!"

As it would happen, that early rain had become a torrent. I looked up. The whole sky was dark, rain falling in sheets.

What was I doing?

I was watering the garden in my bikini in a down-pour.

Oh, well, at least the pumpkins are happy.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Am I a Thief?

I ask myself:
~ Am I a thief?

That I would lay claim to who I am
and live solely for self glorification?

Not even these words are mine
Before this world gave them to me
they existed elsewhere
created by English speaking ancestors
and eventually passed on to me

I didn't create this body
My mother did, at first
Since then, I owe physical existence
to farmers all over the world
who plant and hoe
and sweat and pray
and harvest
so I will have food

Not even the air I breathe is mine
Without it
I would not last five minutes
Yet, I cannot hold it
It comes in and then it leaves me,
off to feed the trees
or nourish other lungs

Even these thoughts in my mind
came from somewhere else
Ideas adopted from
parents, family, friends,
school, church,
books, media,
you

What I call myself
is a bundle
of independently functioning cells
and a collection of ideas
that drifted across the mental field
and landed in my mind
like so much dandelion fluff snags on a drying sheet

I only exist
because everything else exists

My life does not belong to me
I belong to life

Intertwined with everything and everyone
I cannot steal myself from myself

The only thing I can do
amidst this ever changing, integrated platform called life
is remember
I am but one small part
of one great whole