It has been a hard week here in Minnesota and, indeed, across the country. A good many of us stand shocked, confused, unheard. I’ve approached writing again and again over the last few days. A rote response to trauma. A habit of a lifetime though my personal history is largely a lucky one, easy and light-filled. Still, there are days that are hard and times you can’t help but take on the cares of the world as your own. To do otherwise would be less than human. Some of us are wrapped in a soft shell; we are permeable. And some of us are quiet, not born knowing how to shout. That is when we (I) write poems.
Today I share a longer post than usual. A poem, my own. Two poems by others I return to in challenging times. And a book recommendation. I hope you take the time to read through to the end. You never know which piece of the puzzle is meant just for you.
In Search of Eloquence By Laura L. Hansen I want to share what is not really in my heart, vain attempt to write a happy post. I'm not sad, just defeated, and okay sad, a bit. All my lovely words have gone. They are hiding in a back closet; they are gathering dust as a way to disguise themselves. I push away a pair of old tennis shoes, laces shirred and dangling. I unearth an old pair of painted clogs, red with rosemaled flowers that smirk at me like the painted lips of a younger woman. Why do I hold on to them? Where are my words? I want to send you elegance, a drape of silk. I want to wrap you in the calm warmth of a well-loved coat. But my words come out as orthopedic shoes, solid, square, unattractive. The events of the world have muffled me, pared down my vocabulary to these few phrases, this is nuts, what is happening to us, how can this be? I look out after days of violence and rain. Each rumble could be thunder or could be the National Guard Reserve practice- bombing the already gutted fields. The air outside smells of fungus and mold and last month's forest fires. The sky is sickly green. I close the door - to the closet, to the outside world. Here is my calm, in these few rooms. Here is my eloquent poem.
My first go-to poem is from William Stafford’s collection, The Darkness Around Us is Deep.
A Ritual to Read to Each Other
By William E. Stafford
If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.
And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.
And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.
For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.
Copyright Credit: William Stafford, "A Ritual to Read to Each Other" from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 1998 by William Stafford. Reprinted by permission of Graywolf Press, www.graywolfpress.org.
Source: The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems (Graywolf Press, www.graywolfpress.org, 1998)
My second go-to poem is an enjoinder for strength and comes from Alice Fogel’s collection, I Love This Dark World.
The Necessity
By Alice B. Fogel
It isn't true about the lambs.
They are not meek.
They are curious and wild,
full of the passion of spring.
They are lovable,
and they are not silent when hungry.
Tonight the last of the triplet lambs
is piercing the quiet with its need.
Its siblings are stronger
and will not let it eat.
I am its keeper, the farmer, its mother,
I will go down to it in the dark,
in the cold barn,
and hold it in my arms.
But it will not lie still—it is not meek.
I will stand in the open doorway
under the weight of watching trees and moon,
and care for it as one of my own.
But it will not love me—it is not meek.
Drink, little one. Take what I can give you.
Tonight the whole world prowls
the perimeters of your life.
Your anger keeps you alive—
it's your only chance.
So I know what I must do
after I have fed you.
I will shape my mouth to the shape
of the sharpest words,
even those bred in silence.
I will impale with words every ear
pressed upon open air.
I will not be meek.
You remind me of the necessity
of having more hope than fear,
and of sounding out terrible names.
I am to cry out loud
like a hungry lamb, cry loud
enough to waken wolves in the night.
No one can be allowed to sleep.
Copyright Credit: Alice B Fogel, "The Necessity" from I Love This Dark World. Copyright © 1996 by Alice B Fogel. Reprinted by permission of Alice B Fogel.
Source: I Love This Dark World (Zoland Books, Inc., 1996)Finally, I would still be stuck in my funk, not knowing what to write, if it hadn’t been for spotting my copy of One Long River of Song; Notes on Wonder by Brian Doyle sitting on the coffee table. I have been reading this posthumous essay collection over the course of the year, one exquisite essay at a time, as if it were a book of daily meditations. Today, it reminded me of the power of a life examined, of the brilliance of seemingly inconsequential moments and of hope. I had forgotten how essential Doyle's essays can be for my mental well-being. Even in the most seemingly mundane stories he manages to gift us with something "huge and crucial and holy".
(*p. 187 One Long River of Song; Notes on Wonder by Brian Doyle, Forward by David James Duncan, Little Brown and Company, 2019)
As always, I encourage you to support local and independent booksellers. Here is the Bookshop.org order link for One Long River of Song.
Be well. Be strong. Stay awake. And if you follow my Facebook page, Laura L. Hansen, Poet, you will know what I mean when I say buy yourself some strawberries!