Means a cooler start to the week! And the mornings are so dark now. The tables have turned and instead of the sun waiting for me to rise… I am waiting for the sun, which just might be the perfect way to ease into the week.
These words by Jericho Brown have lingered with me since I listened to them last week on The Slow Down and, like Jericho, “I am in a mood about America.”
Googling, I found this reading by Alfre Woodard to share with you all! Each time I hear the poem, something different speaks to me.
And, of course, the NYTimes did a lovely piece about this poem (and if you subscribe, you can hear Jericho read his poem to you!)
Happy Monday everyone!
Yesterday, Garrison Keillor read Hands by Jack Ridl. The words were brilliant and when I realized it was this Jack Ridl, I just had to share with you. I am pretty sure I have run into Mr. Ridl a few times when I lived in Holland, and I had the pleasure of knitting with his wife occasionally at a local knitting group!
But, back to his poem…it is brilliant, and so appropriate for a Monday! Here is to a week with my hands being busy…and no boredom!
(You can read Mr. Ridl’s poem here on his blog)
Photo by Luis Quintero from Pexels
Writing is my salvation. If I didn’t write, what would I do? — Maxine Kumin
I heard a poem by Maxine Kumin last week and I have not been able to get it out of my head. It is the epitome of summer, and I just want to immerse myself in it…and never leave. It was the balm I needed to get through the week. I had not heard of Maxine Kumin so I did some Googling and discovered the quote above. I am nodding my head in agreement, writing keeps me sane these days. It is a bit scary, but I have almost filled my Pandemic Journal…and I am debating with myself; do I keep going or stop?
Today I want to dwell on the goodness that this poem holds:
Appetite by Maxine Kumin
I eat these
wild red raspberries
still warm from the sun
and smelling faintly of jewel weed
in memory of my father
tucking the napkin
under his chin and bending
over an ironstone bowl
of the bright drupelets
awash in cream
with the sigh of a man
who has seen all and been redeemed
said time after time
as he lifted his spoon
men kill for this.
May your Monday be awash with good things.
Photo by Jenna Hamra from Pexels
It’s Poem in your Pocket Day and this poem is going in my pocket. I will carry it with me during the day. I will be thinking of the “heavy threads” of the day and hope that I will be stitched “into a useful garment”.
And yet, there is comfort in knowing the day “will do nothing of the kind”. Because even that is a blessing.
by Hazel Hall
When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon
Thrown through my window,
I know that hours of light
Are about to thrust themselves into me
Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth,
Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun.
They seem altogether too eager,
To embroider this thing of mine,
Into the strict patterns of an altar cloth;
Or at least to stitch it into a useful garment.
But I know they will do nothing of the kind.
They will prick away,
And when they are through with it
It will look like the patch quilt my grandmother made
When she was learning to sew.
I hope you find a poem to carry with you today, one that will make you stop and think, one that will give you respite, one that will bring you joy.
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels
Last week, I get up close and personal with my 100-Day Project. My goal is that this stitching will become a piece of art on my living room wall. I have taken my time on this project and I even spent some time learning about listening to that inner creative voice. Kym shared a link for a link to sign up for The Makerie’s first Playful Pause. I thoroughly enjoyed the hour I spent, but I especially loved listening to Melanie Falick read from her book, Making A Life. The bit she shared made me wish that my library was open! I really want to go pick up a copy of the book and settle in with it.
I spent time mentally blocking out my next steps and there was a day or two that I was unsure… so I paused and spent time thinking about what I was uncertain about. Mostly, it was *my uncertainty* in myself. (more on that tomorrow!)
But today, this poem speaks to me…to my heart.
Thank you, Hazel Hall for your simple, timeless words.
Happy Monday everyone!