A poem for your pocket | 4.18.19

A poem for your pocket | 4.18.19

I wept with the world at the tragedy that happened to Notre Dame on Monday. I had been thinking and thinking about what poem I might post for today, and I wondered if there were any poems written to that magnificent cathedral.

There are!

I considered this poem on Monday night. But, the loss of the stained glass – especially that glorious rose window – made Kerrie O’Brien’s words almost painful to read.

Then I considered Edmund Kemper Broadus poem about a gargoyle. But, the fate of those gargoyles is yet uncertain.

Finally, I stumbled across this poem, written on Monday by Mary Angela Douglas and I knew that this is the poem I will carry with me today:

Beauty Itself Is Burning Down
by Mary Angela Douglas

beauty itself is burning down
a newsman cried
with Notre Dame lit like a torch

against the sunset sky
what can we say
from faraway

will the rose windows melt inside
I wondered, can it be so many saints have died
and now their images too their agonies renewed

for another contract, lease

is the name for Paris, rue,
not rosemary, please forget me
what I knew of thought I knew of

Hugo, I thought ramdomly

cathedrals burning in a green April
april, the cruelest
does the world skip a beat in an afternoon

of eight centuries
the world within the world

we never see
not being visionary

the cathedral erupting into great roses
in a penultimate Spring
the cathedral a great green candle

consumed for the Lord

as if by example, we should be shorn
of our somnambulance
in the lily of this hour

with the traffic no longer surging, transfixed

in the rose of its crumbling
singing, singing singing
the bell into the tower

the tower withstanding

the bell in the tower
the bell in the tower
beyond all wars and scars

the little mockeries in peace time

and yet, crowds grew
and thronged the singeing avenues
willing the walls to stay

for hours and hours
the spire of Notre Dame
our lady’s arrow-sorrow

lit in a golden flame, flickered, floated sideways
what next? The flaking, flinging down of stars. the moon falls into the earth, a mirror no longer

ashes for beauty?

time itself collapsed in a deep black hole

remnants of a single spring twilight
our souls in the rubble still singing.
will not cease, will not leave it this way

on this, no calendar’s day.

Photo by Adrienn from Pexels

Weekending: In pictures

Weekending: In pictures

Notes on a weekend: I do not consider myself a pie baker, but this recipe intrigued me and 8 cups of frozen raspberries from our garden that I had done absolutely nothing with glaring at me every time I opened the freezer. So, out came the raspberries to thaw a bit while I put mixed the pie crust ingredients together on Sunday morning. My raspberry modifications: 4 C raspberries – slightly thawed. 3 Tbsp corn starch (next time I will only use 2 Tbsp), 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tsp vanilla paste, the juice and zest of one lemon. I needed to bake it about 8 minutes longer than the recipe called for.

Oh, and that corned beef… omgosh, it was hands down the best corned beef I have ever made – or eaten! If you have always felt sort of ho-hum about corned beef… try Andrew Z’s recipe. It will turn you into a corned beef fan!!

My quilt top is almost done! As is the back of Deschain – so you know that means I simply had to cast on a new project, lol. This will be the shawl I am donating to and Close to You won the great pattern debate. I wound the yarn while I watched the NCAA selection show (there were cheers for Michigan pulling a #2 seed despite losing the Big Ten Tournament to Michigan State) and the winding continued while we watched the Circus. But, cast on was achieved before I finally turned off the lights and headed to bed.

And, with that – the weekend is just a warm memory and the mundanity of Monday awaits me! How about you? How was your weekend?

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