Season Change

Offering you a bit of Sunday morning poetry
written last month by Ed...

Mid-August’s

golden light slants

on dry fields

head-high goldenrod and ragweed and

of nodding Queen Anne’s lace.

Milkweed gives way to gravity.

Yellow sulphur idlers float indolently over

purple and lemon-colored ironweed 

which have replaced spring’s jaunty coreopsis and coneflower.

Redwinged blackbirds and tree swallows have flown.

Mornings are near silent now that 

birds no longer need

to mate or nest.

Walnuts start to drop yellowed leaves.

Like reluctant party-goers

they’re the last to arrive in spring

and the first to leave in fall.

They whisper to those who listen,

gray winter

is coming.

– Ed Galloway

Knowing the dark

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

– Wendell Berry
from “To Know the Dark”

At nearly midnight tomorrow the winter solstice will occur at Farm Dover. By the time it arrives, it will have been dark for nearly six and a half hours. And it will be nearly eight more hours before the sun rises above our little cottage. It is the longest night.

In his poem, I suspect Wendell Berry may have been referring to the darkness that lurks within our souls, but I challenge you to embrace the physical dark, to know the dark – as it too blooms and sings. Bundle up. Go willingly into the dark. Surrender to it. Look up. The stars are brightly shining. A full moon will rise on Christmas Day. Listen. Around here, coyotes yelp. Turkeys gobble from their tree-top roosts. And an owl will let its presence be known by the soft flap of its wings.

There is a beauty in the darkness that we never imagined.

..............................

Yuletide blessings to you and your clan. May there be light in your life and much joy on your journey in the coming year. Rest assured that warmth, sunlight and longer days are somewhere up the trail.

Being open to happiness

This poem about coconuts and happiness popped up in my in-box this week. It comes from a blog called Eat this Poem which explores "how poetry moves from page to plate, and inspires our palates along the way."

The poem's title caught my eye because Ed and I just came from a place where coconuts grow on trees and young men shimmy up to twist off the fruit and machete chop the stem so that a straw can be inserted, offering coconut juice to thirsty travellers.

The poem is about a particular coconut discovered by a small boy in the fruit section of a grocery store:

and this was happiness

this little ball

But his dad, who had other things on his mind, wasn't open to happiness at that particular moment. He wasn't ready.

and because I wasn't

happy I said

to put it back

because I didn't want it

because we didn't need it

Happiness can come at any moment, so we had better be ready, says the writer of the blog. 

Are you ready? Are you open to happiness? 

Coconut

by Paul Hostovsky

Bear with me I
want to tell you
something about
happiness
it's hard to get at
but the thing is
I wasn't looking
I was looking
somewhere else
when my son found it
in the fruit section
and came running
holding it out
in his small hands
asking me what
it was and could we
keep it it only
cost 99 cents

hairy and brown
hard as a rock
and something swishing
around inside
and what on earth
and where on earth
and this was happiness
this little ball
of interest beating
inside his chest
this interestedness
beaming out
from his face pleading
happiness
and because I wasn't
happy I said
to put it back
because I didn't want it
because we didn't need it
and because he was happy
he started to cry
right there in aisle
five so when we got it home we

put it in the middle

of the kitchen table

and sat on either

side of it and began

to consider how

to get inside of it

From Bending the Notes (Main Street Rag, 2008)

___________________

While we were in Thailand, I ordered Tom Kah – coconut soup – whenever it was on the menu. I couldn't get enough of it. On our last day, we stopped by a market and I bought the essential ingredients: lemongrass, galangal root, thai chilies, and kaffir lime leaves, tucking them away in my suitcase. 

Once home, I found this recipe and this recipe and combined them to make a Farm Dover version of Thai Coconut Soup. 

And in that bowl of silky, aromatic soup, I found happiness.