Tardy Solstice

It seems I’m tardy with many things these days. My only excuse is the daily occurrence of real life, joyous and challenging as it may be. Saturday was the Summer Solstice, the “first day” of summer, although our already humid 90 degree temperatures in Mississippi over the last week said it was at least a little overdue. Our Saturday was spent enjoying 2009′s longest day at my parent’s home. After yummy food and racing cars and stickered airplanes and much drooling and searching for “flint” rocks (ones I’ve yet to learn how to distinguish) and late afternoon naps and shouting and extra time with Daddy, it was 11:30pm before my three gifts could be coaxed to embrace the night, long after the sun had given up it’s day of “triumph.” Earlier in the week, a friend encouraged me to stare at everyone I love a little more closely these days in light of the unexpected brevity of life. I was decidedly blessed to take her up on the challenge the few extra daylight moments.

I came across a wonderful program called American Life in Poetry, which highlights modern poetry selections with notes from former U.S. Poet Laureate, Ted Kooser. Our local Arts Council has used it in their newsletter (which I design) for years. I’ve only recently paid closer attention and realized that the weekly offering is made available for free publication. A recent column was very apropos in beautifully articulating the push and pull of day and night this time of year.

American Life in Poetry: Column 220
BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

One of the privileges of being U.S. Poet Laureate was to choose two poets each year to receive a $10,000 fellowship, funded by the Witter Bynner Foundation. Joseph Stroud, who lives in California, was one of my choices. This poem is representative of his clear-eyed, imaginative poetry.

Night in Day

The night never wants to end, to give itself over
to light. So it traps itself in things: obsidian, crows.
Even on summer solstice, the day of light’s great
triumph, where fields of sunflowers guzzle in the sun—
we break open the watermelon and spit out
black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright (c)2001 by Coleman Barks, from his most recent book of poems, “Winter Sky: New and Selected Poems, 1968-2008,” University of Georgia Press, 2008, and reprinted by permission of Coleman Barks and the publisher. Introduction copyright (c)2009 by The Poetry Foundation.  The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.  We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Lovely. I think I’ll search out more of Mr. Stroud’s work. One caveat: Light seems just as unwilling to give up it’s hold on our hearts. On Wednesday, the boys and Hub were out chasing “lightening bugs” in the guise of doing chores for Miss Belle (the beagle). Upon their return, all sweaty and giggling, they informed me they had caught two. Only, one “COULD NOT turn his light off.”

Much like the lights of my life.

Shabbat Blessedness

It was crowded. There were so many distractions that God found a quiet, lonely place to wait. When I stopped struggling and came to sit at His feet in that lonely place, He began to teach me. He spoke to me:

“Blessed are you when you are poor and broken in spirit. This makes you understand my kingdom, for my love for you have been nurtured out of loneliness. My loneliness even brought you into being.

It is good when you mourn because it helps you cry for the hurts of others as well as your own. Don’t be discouraged, I will comfort you.

Blessed are you when you are gentle and meek. You learn a silent strength that will bring you success in my kingdom on earth.

I am so pleased when I see you long for holiness and truth like you long for food and water. I want you to be happy, and I will satisfy you.

Blessed are you when you show mercy and compassion because I will give that to you when you need it.

It is good for you to examine your heart and be honest with yourself and Me. Only when you trust me enough to truly reveal yourself to Me will I reveal Myself in greater ways to you.

Be a peacemaker. Seek to bridge gaps and heal hurts. You know that a child takes after his Father. Peacemaking is one of My greatest attributes. After all, that is what brought you back to Me.

You will be blessed when you take a stand for Me, when you abandon to Me. Even though it may be costly, you will be blessed. That, most of all, symbolizes my feelings and commitment to you: love to the point of pain and beyond.”

[paraphrase of matthew 5:1-12, "The Beatitudes"]

Career Plans at Fire Station No. 3

Yesterday marked our local mayoral and alderman elections in Starkville. Primaries and run-offs passed a few weeks ago, so Tuesday’s ballot was the final determination for our community’s leaders for the next four years.

Hub and I caravaned to Fire Station No. 3 after the daily daycare pickup event at 6pm. I kept the Fire Station No. 3 bit under wraps since I know from experience that they have the fire trucks squirreled away behind big metal doors when the station is employed as a polling station. If word got out in the back seat that a Fire Station was involved, we would have had to page some Fire Chief around town to pull one of those shiny suckers out of hiding to avoid an election day mutiny.

Any time we do something a little out of the norm, especially on the way home, the conversation with my gifts is always pretty interesting.  This one went something like this:

Squiggle: “Long way, Mommy”

Mommy: “Well, today we are going to vote, so we can’t go the long way.”

Little Drummer Boy: “Boat?”

Baby Girl: “uh Da Da Da Da Daaah”

Mommy: “No, vote. Mommy and Daddy are going to vote before we go home.”

Squig: “Is waaaay”

Mommy: “No, sweetie, we have to go this way to vote.”

LDB: “Why we have to vote before we go home?”

Mommy: “You know how you like to watch the Charlie Brown Election movie where Linus runs for class president and all his friends get to vote for him? Well, today is our election to decide who will be the leader of our city. So Mommy and Daddy are going to vote.”

Squig: “Trees!”

LDB: “Well, I think I can be the leader.”

Mommy: (with stifled giggle) “You do? So you can be the leader?”

BG: “Aaaah Ma Ma Ma”

Squig: “Whass At, Mommy?”

This question came up quite often referring to any number of random objects hanging out around Fire Station No. 3. I tried my best to answer, but I must confess I didn’t have an adequate response for the stray fire hydrant. But, then after Daddy finished his turn voting…

LDB: “I’m gonna be the leader of our town.”

Mommy: “Ok, that sounds good. I would vote for you every time, sweetie.”

LDB: “Good.”

Starkville residents seem to have been more involved (and invested) in this local election season as evidenced my much public debate, twittering of election night results and waving signs on street corners. That’s good to see. The younger citizenry seems to have been more interested this year in who would be the leaders of our town, possibly because we had quite a few younger candidates seeking service. For the first time in my voting life, we actually put a few yard signs for favorite candidates in our front yard.

I’d like to commend my friends Mike and Rachel Allen for Mike’s decision to run for Ward 4 Alderman. It was a great commitment for their family, and I admire their willingness to make it. Although Mike didn’t win, his desire to participate in the process is the same desire that spurred the creation of this country and the enumeration of the rights we hold dear.  Mike finished his thank you letter to voters with this statement,

“Again, as a candidate, I thank you for the chance to participate in the political process. As Americans, let us never forget that blessing or take it for granted.”

Indeed. The opportunity to participate, whether by voting, by running for office, by writing a letter in support of a bill or by standing in protest of a constitutional amendment or judge’s ruling is every American’s right and privilege.

Little Drummer Boy may never actually be the leader of our town. But the promise of tomorrow is that, without fear, he can choose to try.

“Married to Amazement”

I was reading again on the blog you didn’t know I was reading.  The one that inspired me here and here.  The one I’ve written a post about — complimenting it, explaining my enjoyment of it, paying attention to its point of view.  Ok. I’ve written it in my HEAD and hope to soon commit it to keyboard and hit “publish.”

Yesterday she posted a remarkable poetic tribute to the nephew she lost to cancer four years ago. And, I found myself in that place.  That horrible place of dual gratitude: Thank You for my life and let me live it completely.  And… thank You that it was them and not me saying goodbye.

It’s hard to resolve in my spirit, but her subsequent pledge to “live my life and my parenthood with my eyes and heart as wide open as possible” so echos my own desire to soak up every second of this day with those that have made my life so rich, that I wanted to reprint the poem here.  “So teach us to number our days, so that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.” (psalm 90:12)

“When Death Comes”
by Mary Oliver
from New and Selected Poems

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measles-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

Give and Take

As foretold:
“Blessed are those who can give without remembering and take without forgetting.”
~ Elizabeth Bibesco