Tag Archive | earthweal

Clearwater

#13 Fellowship with Men

“True fellowship among men must be based upon a concern that is universal. It is not the private interests of the individual that create lasting fellowship among men, but rather the goals of humanity.” (Wilhelm)

“all I did was plant a seed…”—Pete Seeger

they called it Clearwater
build a boat
a replica of an 18th century Hudson River sloop
to save the river

they had a vision
if there’s something wrong
the river returned to its origins
speak up!

free of contamination
realize that little things
sewage and toxic chemicals
lead to bigger things

fish would come back
get people together
humans could enjoy the river again
and they’ll act together too

fresh water without fear

italicized words from Pete Seeger

There’s so much wrong with the world–what can we do? Pete Seeger believed in working locally with the people in your community–what needs to be fixed? Realize that little things lead to bigger things.

Founded by Pete and Toshi Seeger, Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, Inc, has played a major role not only in cleaning up the Hudon River to allow both the river and the surrounding ecosystems to recover and flourish, but in pushing for judicial solutions to pollution everywhere in the United States.

Until I did a little research for this post, I did not realize that Clearwater’s opposition to the Storm King power plant led to the first court case to grant legal standing to environmental groups so that they could file lawsuits to protect the public interest. The NRDC and all organizations challenging the right of business and government to pollute or destroy ecosystems for profit began here–with the Clearwater. This is a tool whose value cannot be overestimated.

I used to frequently see the sloop sailing up and down the Hudson in the years I spent a lot of time in lower Riverside Park. It continues its mission with public education and helping people organize–and of course with music.

“Participation—that’s what’s gonna save the human race.”

The first collage/photo is from my Beach I Ching series. It seemed appropriate to this subject in many ways. The other art is from various things I’ve posted over the years.

could disappear s

This post was inspired by Sherry’s challenge at Earthweal this week: what happens to one, happens to us all.

Giving Thanks

I spent a lot of time thinking about the earthweal challenge this week, to write a poem of thanks. It all came down to the same thing: I’m thankful for life, to be alive. But I couldn’t think of another better way to say it.

always unexpected—this
grace, this balancing—darkness
shining into light

Happy Thanksgiving to those celebrating, and those who are not. May we remember and honor all life with care and gratitude.

a fragment of a dream, caught in the morning light

and I am reminded again of who I am,
what I see when I look up at the night sky,
the scent of the earth in spring–

I feel the summer lingering,
long days of sun and sand
and the salty taste I carry
through days that follow me in rhythm
with the waves–

I see the sharpness of blue sky
behind black branches,
a playground of white snow
that culminates in hot chocolate,
logs burning,
the inside warming the outer—

I have been uprooted and transplanted
so many times that nowhere is home–
everything is temporary–
I’m always expecting to move on–

but I remember looking up
through the shade of oak trees,
the roses in my mother’s garden,
lilacs filled with butterflies—

the rust and gold of autumn
singing beneath my feet

For the earthweal challenge, a song of earth-praise from 2019. How far away that seems now. But I am still thinking of my mother.

more birds

after adrian s

The morning wakes without rain,
a shimmer of green
appearing from the silhouettes
of the trees scattered between
buildings.  Silence floats
off the glossy reflections
of the windows
holding the rising sun.

I look for Crow flashing
black feathers as he calls
from somewhere I can’t see.
His voice bounces off
the brick and I imagine
he raises his sharp beak,
laughing as he follows
my eyes searching  for the sound.

I have not asked him to speak–
he does not wait for invitations—
I do not for an instant believe
he is without purpose here
on this clear morning calling me
as usual to attention.  Do you
pretend you know me?

he asks, and what can I reply?

How can you ever pretend
to know another when
you cannot even see who
this person is that you carry
with you all the time?
Who is this being that you call
yourself?  What
is their true name?

Another piece of art inspired by Nina–her joyful birds, above.  For the poem, I used a prompt posted awhile ago by Miz Quickly, in which you take lines from a poem and write them every few lines on a piece of paper and fill in the spaces between with your own words.

after adrian close up s

As Jane told me recently, it’s hard to find a poem of mine that doesn’t talk about birds.  I used lines from an Adrian C. Louis poem “Magpie in Margaritaville”, which I found in the wonderful Tupelo Press book “Native Voices”.  I couldn’t find a link to the poem online, but you can read about the poet, a member of the Paiute Tribe, here.

Also linking to earthweal, open link weekend.

premises

premises s

karma
waits disguised
in the afterglow

good
or bad
doesn’t always fit

constructing
new fates
with old formulas

dice
thrown divided
and then multiplied

ready
or not
the sun rises

take
your chance
and wing it

always
answer why
with why not

when
asked to
explain say yes

pause
leave room
for something else

My collage, inspired by Nina’s recent painting, above, is not at all what I intended to do.  Not even close.  I feel like this is a good metaphor for life, the way my life is, anyway, now and for as long as I can remember it.  Nothing is as it appears, even in its imagining.

And what is the point of my poem?  Does it have or need one?  I’m not sure, but it travels in a kind of parallel to my train of thought these days also.  As David Byrne said so aptly, maybe it’s time we stopped trying to make sense out of the nonsensical.  Aim as truly as you can and see what happens.

Earthweal asks this week if our poetry can be sufficient for the world we live in.  How do we define “enough” of anything? Everything seems to be both too little and at the same time too much.

We want definitive answers when there are always only more questions to ask.  There’s no guidebook, no map. It’s a circle, not a line. There’s no way of knowing or controlling where the things we begin will end. We can only do our best to say what we think needs to be said, do what we think needs to be done, and be good listeners and caretakers to the world.