shop class taught us that
fine grit in gears halts progress
no boulder? be sand.
Most people agree that the last couple of years have been difficult. 2016 has been made even less palatable by the run up to the election, and all of us are sick to death of hearing certain names, certain voices, certain attitudes. I ran across a Madeleine L’Engle quote the other day which just resonated so much with me, and which is giving me a direction to look to in preparation for the new year (as I attempt to ignore The Plague presently consuming me):
“The first people a dictator puts in jail after a coup are the writers, the teachers, the librarians — because these people are dangerous. They have enough vocabulary to recognize injustice and to speak out loudly about it. Let us have the courage to go on being dangerous people.” – Dare To Be Creative, Madeleine L’Engle
I’m not always the most articulate, but you can rarely find me without a book in hand, or in a convenient arm’s reach in my purse. Couldn’t bring a stack of library books out of the country, so I have my trusty (elderly) electronic option. Here’s hoping that I’ll go on being dangerous.
the camel’s last straw,
the Lego that makes you limp
a fierce catalyst
between these covers
lies in wait the wealth of minds
read wide and deeply
Somehow, I have an influenza/stomach virus with a lurking sinus infection, so my vacation abroad has been spent with tea and a short walk to a bathroom in the hotel. Somehow, not what I was planning for on this trip. But.
what cannot be taken
take joy in small things:
small arts from clever hands prove
not all gifts are wrapped
First night of Hanukkah and Christmas and Kwanzaa to come – all have their lights. While it is dry here, where I am, at home, it is raining again, and the water is rising in the aqueducts – which is a blessing. Elsewhere, the rain is not so much a joy. Luckily, we all know how to get above low ground.
dark water rising
all over the world. searchlight
beams over rough seas
better prickly sharp
than compliant bending, yes.
stubborn weeds split stone
we salute you, general leia
in a galaxy
closer than you might believe
the Empire falls
Enjoy more Poetry Friday for Solstice and Christmas Eve at Buffy’s blog.
The longest night, following the longest day – at least it felt like that. I feel a bit unmoored from calendars and watches just now, having made a deliberate choice to shut off most of my interaction with the world until the end of the month. Still, I imagine the same relief I feel at the end of the day, when the sun finally releases its hold and we can forget all that happened and just go to bed – I imagine the same relief was felt by those in far northern climes, frozen and dark, the day they realized was the last long night, and things would get shorter – clearer – brighter after that. Here’s to the days ahead, becoming clearer and brighter.
stemming the tide
hail, sol invictus
which halts encroaching darkness
bringing back the light