What I Didn't Do Today

 

Here's to everything undone today:
the memoir untouched
the pantry not tidied
the floor unwashed
the bathroom not cleaned

Here's everything I did instead:
I turned off the news
sat outside in the sun as spring
tiptoed into the yard
smiled at
tiny crocuses stretching 
fragile new blooms
walked the beach
patted a puppy
and fed her a treat
picked up some dressing
at the CoOp
for the salad I will eat
this afternoon
listened to some tunes
that took me back
to when the earth and I
were young
counted my blessings
in certainty that

This is Enough.

Wild Writing inspired by "Ode" by Zoe Higgins. The italicized lines are hers.

Not Writing an Anthology

 

source

We're not writing anthologies here,
we're living our memoir.
It's Wednesday. The recycling
gets picked up today. 

Also on my To Do list:
keep track of my blood pressure,
which is too high. (No wonder:
have you watched the news lately?)
And write. Every morning.
This writing-thing I do is my medicine;
it helps me bear the truth (and bear witness
to the truth) of this slipping-down life.

Last night, lying awake, I contemplated
the anarchists in the "freedom convoy",
the rise of fascism across the globe,
Russia lining up its militia
on the Ukraine border,
cruelty - to animals and people -
so pervasive I wonder what kind of
species we have become,
and whether maybe the climate crisis
will help solve the problem of us
for all other living things.

Re-set the clock, I beg
The Unhearing Ear. Take us back
to when life seemed simpler, kinder,
(perhaps because I was too busy 
raising kids to watch the news.)

This poem is my medicine.
It helps me to bear the truth
of this slipping-down life.
Meanwhile, it's Wednesday,
and my blue box of recyclables
is sitting on the curb. 

Wild Writing inspired by "We're Not Writing Anthologies Here" by Maya Stein. Shared with earthweal's open link.

How To Make Them Stay

 

Christine Lowther photos

My wild mind clawed its way out of the desert,

across the mountains to the western sea,

plunged itself into old growth forest,

saturated my heart with starfish and eagles

and herons and grinning joyous beach dogs,

plunged into the surf, discovered - breathlessly -

bioluminescence, fell in love with mountain,

sea and sky. This place was the entire answer

to my soul's question: why?

My wild spirit first had to flee abuse,

oppression, patriarchy, everything 

that set itself to limit the expansion of my soul.

I found my wild heart's home in the green places,

with the wild ones. There is a certain landscape

that called to me, wherein I finally

grew whole.

Green fire! I find it among the ancient trees,

fierce love, as I try to save those who are left.

A wolf howl in my heart that grieves

all that is passing away; a faint hope, 

flickering, that I can find a way

to make them stay.

for earthweal: Wild Mind. Today I walked through Tonquin forest, half of it laid waste, the heavy equipment roaring so loud, past their depradations through the rest of the forest, where there is peace and calm still, and a diminished habitat for the wild creatures. Tofino Natural Heritage is doing all we can to save what is left. There is a petition which has reached over a thousand, not bad for a small community of 2000. You can sign, if you wish, in favour of saving What Is Left at:

https://www.change.org/p/tofino-council-protect-and-save-the-rest-of-tonquin-forest-from-further-development?fbclid=IwAR37D6yz2WME62kolBDcNsqMmnFWfcUvokh2QHUOlxIbQ4RrQAZaizMKQg0

A Can-Do Woman

 

I was once a Can-Do woman:

chopped my own firewood,

straddled the peaked roof to put

the rain cap back on the chimney,

washed the tar drips
off the side of the trailer

every spring, and in between

worked three jobs at a time
to make ends
almost meet.

Home from work,

I raised my child,

fed and walked the dogs,

and, in my spare moments,

wandered through paradise,

gob-smacked at the beauty 

of the sun rising and falling

at the edge of the sea.

I did it all.
While it left me

Terminally Tired,
I don't regret a single thing.

It was the price I paid

to live my dream,
and a person just can't live

without a dream.

for The Sunday Muse

DEEP LISTENING

Entering the forest,

there's a feeling of connection,

of being welcomed in

to a green and peaceful world

where everyone is kin.

Tall cedar,

spruce and hemlock,

candelabra snags,

hollow root-beds

for small critters

and mossy, rocky crags,

are homes for the wild ones

- squirrels and owls,

wolf and bear -

there is a kinship

in the forest

all we trees and beings

share.

Fern and salal,

and old man's beard,

mushrooms beside my boot,

fiddleheads and swamp lanterns,

sedge, salal and root;

- nurse logs thriving

with new growth

and ever-thrusting life -

in the forest,

all is hushed

and absent of all strife,

and I, who am the go-between,

from this other-world

to mine,

would like to polish up

the green,

and make the whole world shine,

spread this blissful peace

to you,

in just the perfect rhyme

that will save

these ancient trees

that are

as old and rare

as time.

This forest

will soon be gone;

the town creeps closer

every day.

I hear

their silent plea,

whispered, so sweet, to me.

I walk its trails

with guilty sorrow,

turn my eyes away.

Mea culpa, mea culpa

that I've

no power to let them

stay.

A poem from last spring. Some of this beauty has already been turned into bare scraped earth in the nearby Tonquin Forest. Some of us are working hard to try to save the remaining forest.

Shared with earthweal's open link

Give Me This One Small Moment of Joy

 

Ottawa Citizen photo

Truckers at the border are protesting,
demanding "freedom from tyranny"
otherwise known as health mandates
designed to keep us safe.
They carry upside down Canadian flags,
Nazi and white supremacist flags
and dance on the grave of the unknown soldier,
hang placards and upside down flags on 
the Terry Fox statue, talk about their freedoms
while trampling on and preventing
their fellow citizens from exercising ours.

The west is facing off against Russia
and soon we might have more to worry about
than whether we like masks and vaccinations
and health mandates or not. 

Don't even get me started on the climate crisis
and what extreme events we will live through
this year.

But this morning, it is still peace-time.
My village is moving through its usual routine.
The Parks people are adding topsoil
to community gardens, plying their rakes 
and hoes and shovels with enthusiasm.
Light is coming earlier and staying later,
and a new puppy with blue eyes
took a treat from my fingers 
with great interest, one small new being
slowly discovering a whole big world 
of interesting smells and sensations.
(May he be safe. May his so vulnerable
and precious life be blessed.)

Give me just these small moments of joy
and I will make it through the distressing news,
deplorable human behaviour, and 
the resulting state of the world
that we are, together and individually,
co-creating. (May we be safe. May our
and Mother Earth's so vulnerable
and precious lives be blessed.)

Sigh. I never thought I would see Nazi, confederate or white supremacist flags in the streets of Canada; never thought our polite society would become so horribly uncivil. The police force sent aggressive militarized police in to terrorize the peaceful protesters at Fairy Creek - crushed their cars, hurt them, teargassed them, arrested them painfully. Yet police seem afraid to arrest people or tow semis that are blocking the roads and highways, harrassing shopkeepers who were forced to shut down their businesses and malls, thus inhibiting the civil rights of others. 

Ironically, even were Canada to remove the requirement for vaccination passports at the Canada/USA border, the US requires them anyway. So it is  a moot point they are making. 90% of truckers are vaccinated, so though numbers involved in the protest look large, it is a small percentage of Canadians. Of those, there is a group of extremists, racists and white supremacists, some carrying guns, who have infiltrated and encouraged the protests through false information online.  The trump cult is alive and well in North America, I am sad to say.

The movement is deplored by the trucking association and the majority of truckers, many of whom are prevented by the convoy from doing their jobs.

I am discouraged at the way humanity is developing. But thanks to puppies, green things poking out of the ground, increased daylight and the glorious sky-scape that keeps me Looking Up, I am weathering the disintegration of society and the accelerating deterioration of the climate as best as one can on the edge of what looks very much like anarchy, and the cliff edge of a coming apocalypse. Stay safe, fellow humans. 

Inspired by the poem "Give Me This" by Ada Limon

GAIA'S DREAM

 

Gaia dreams
the walls of patriarchy are crumbling.
Under midnight stars,
at the 11th hour on Planet Earth,
we contemplate what new thing
may emerge from the ruins
of human conquest.

Wise goddesses are waiting
in the wings, ready to forge a trail
through the bracken
back to the Old Ways:
ways of life, not death.

They beckon we people of Green Fire
to follow them and learn their ways.

As we earthlings awaken
and walk the path
of transformation and restoration,
the Black Snake will dry up
and fade away.
Green life and all animals
will flourish.

Mother Earth and all her creatures
will breathe clean air
once again.

For when Gaia dreams,
she always dreams
in green.

for Brendan at earthweal where the topic is Green Fire (Wild and Sacred)