Issue No. 16

Avocet The Weekly

“Nature, the manifestation of divinity.” - Joseph Campbell

Issue No. 16

| April 3 - 2013

Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

Let us awaken to Spring through our poetry…

“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.” - Rainer Maria Rilke

Two Springs

Stuffing the white plastic bag into our dented galvanized pail I spot two black-capped chickadees bouncing on the old forsythia bush

These dainty dinosaurs chat behind the sunny blooms their calls cut off by raucous crows now flown

When I was four my father taught me their tune two longs: one high, one low and a nine-note warble

They pause a moment at my human whistle to welcome my song.

Ann M. DeVenezia pocono80n@aol.com

“To me, poetry is somebody standing up, so to speak, and saying, with as little concealment as possible, what it is for him or her to be on earth at this moment.” - Galway Kinnell

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Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

Two weeks after the vernal equinox The sun leaps over the prairie horizon to hear the rhapsody of a returning meadowlark, a rhapsody that lifts and warbles through frost-scented air.

Khaki stalks of wheatgrass, buffalograss, blue grama, and little bluestem, flattened by heavy winter snows, show green at their bunched bases.

Winter-thin prairie dogs scout the grass around their burrows for tender shoots as they prepare for spring mating and the birthing of pups.

On toothpick legs, tiny burrowing owls hunt for burrows that winter has emptied; the freezing death of prairie dogs supplies shelter for their chicks.

Antelope does, their bellies swelling with twin fawns, search the prairie for newly greened sage, false dandelion, wild onion, and spreading daisies.

In sandy spaces between clumps of grass, the hardy, six-pointed sand lilies and delicate pink phlox hug the ground with sudden beauty.

The meadowlark continues his rhapsodic encouragement to arriving robins, his ecstasy giving voice to the promise of nature’s renewal.

Art Elser artelser@me.com “Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.” - Saint Francis de Sales

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Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

Lily Pads like Cedar Lake in Connecticut Had Lily pads sway against each other in many little ponds as I drive along the coast of Rhode Island.

And my fingers can almost feel the soft undersides of the supple leaves and stems, drenched in sparkling water, that I drew up into the boat— with Dad patiently rowing, searching for a place to fish.

I braided lily pad stems, long shimmering strands— garlands for me—the rowboat princess, who sat with one foot flapping in the wake of the boat— a little pink rudder, splashing— the oars dipping in and out— And Dad patiently rowing across the lake.

Joanne Stokkink jstokkink@comcast.net

“…poetry and our close reading of it demand that we focus our thinking, pay attention with all of our senses, and grow in imagination. Healing our relationship to the earth demands exactly the same.” - from Scott Knickerbocker’s introduction in his book Ecopoetics -4-

Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

It’s April and all the poems in the New Yorker are about snow I remember snow, its air-stilling chill, window-corners iced like our wedding cake. Sweet imprisonment, luxuriating in artificial heat, not so hot you’d peel a second sweater off, but just at the edge of crisp. Weather-stripping long gone, we filled cracks in the sill with rags. Our marriage was fresh that winter. In our pale aquamarine room with no jarring colors inside or out, we played swing on our hi-fi. Too poor for a home with a fireplace, we didn’t care. He reached to me and I stepped into his intimacy, my flannel gown lifted away for his hand to study my body, which was new to him, as his was to me. I committed his body-size to memory that afternoon, sunk in our overstuffed sofa.

Outside, with snow still on the ground, forsythia ignored the cold and opened yellow. It was April.

Ellen easgr@charter.net “Our spring has come at last with the soft laughter of April suns and shadow of April showers.”

-Byron Caldwell Smith

Daffodils

The trailers are old in Gervais.

They hunker on flat tires among frowsy beds of daffodils.

In a narrow park, steel cactus sprout in patches of narcissus

as sagging houses slide sideways over strips of yellow and vinyl reindeer stare out the dirty window of the general store at a tangle of daffodils across the street.

At the edge of town, a one-shrub graveyard, rambles through a unkempt field of daffodils the golden headstones of spring.

Maralee Gerke mgerke@crestviewcable.com

“What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner.”- Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette -5-

Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16 Here are two poets who dared take the Quotes Challenge posted in the 3/20/13 Weekly Avocet.

Please think about taking the challenge.

The Benevolence Believe in the benevolence of bees and bergamot beckoning hummingbirds.

Hail the tiny ones who sail thousands of treacherous miles to return to us each year.

Rely on the wisdom of crows who congregate on catalpa trees for their alarms are righteous.

Shout amen to each alleluia tree with branches bearing fruit, turning leaves, and nests.

Give thanks to the rain and the sun that dance in contrapuntal perfection their never ending fugue.

Bless each lady bug and firefly, for without them summer holds less happiness to little children.

Glory be to the swallowtail and monarch and every short but beautiful, mysterious life.

All gratitude to the gardeners, great and small, the cultivators and creators, here and above.

Let us never forget the wind, great breath of life.

O, what benevolence bestowed each day given to us without expectation of pay.

Christine Swanberg pobiz@core.com

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.

You know how it is with an April day.� - Robert Frost

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Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

And through the shadowed path of a mangrove forest and into a clearing of inlets and estuaries, red and blue dragonflies so captured me that my walk became instead a journey.

The morning was scented with sumac and sassafras, the marsh hawks harrying the weeds. The sun climbed onto my shoulder; it beckoned to the sunflowers that lifted and bent their heads as it passed. Light strummed ballads on the strings of my hair, and the earth under me, massaged my bare feet.

Every bird, every flower and tree aired God’s symphonic poem, the music casting a trance until I was netted in nature’s web. Now in the gloaming I realize that in going out, I was always going in.

Mary Jo Balistreri joeybfl@gmail.com

“April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.” - William Shakespeare

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Weekly Avocet - Issue No. 16

ONE of our ONE own From

of our own

A review by Charles Portolano of Charles H. Harper’s new collection: Gratitude: Mealtime Meditations and Prayers for Seekers, Agnostics and Other Believers

By Charles H. Harper Published by Powder Horn Press, Inc. 90 pages – 75 poems

C

harles H. Harper’s new collection of poetry Gratitude, Mealtime Meditations and Prayers for Seekers, Agnostics and Other Believers is for those lovers of poetry who seek peace. This collection is a feast to nourish the heart, the soul, and the mind of all of us.

This is a book for those who consider themselves to be spiritual. In his last line of his Preface, Mr. Harper writes, “It seems that our species has an urgent and universal need to say “Thank you” to that Mystery from whom we come, in whom we live and to whom we go.”

So many people in this cruel world go hungry each night, knowing tomorrow will be no different. Those of us who can open the refrigerator door and find food, who know deep down we should be thankful for being so blessed, this is a book to enjoy and grow from reading.

This book will guide each of us in the countless ways to say “Thank you” for the food we find in front of us each meal.

In his opening poem, “Candlesticks,” Mr. Harper writes about a pair of crystal candlesticks,

SUPPORT NATURE’S POETS!

W

e hope we provoked you to thought; that you leave having experienced a complete emotional response to the poetry.

I want to thank our poets for sharing their work with us this week.

And, “Thank you for reading, dear reader!”

Again, if you haven’t yet, send in one nature Spring-themed poem (please, only one) please do!

Please remember it is one poem, per poet, per season for The Weekly Avocet’s submissions.

Be well, see you next Wednesday Charles Portolano Editor of the Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry

STAY INFORMED To know it, that you are a poet, you must write, read other poets, subscribe, buy poetry collections, and bring poetry into the lives of those who don’t know of its beauty.

SUBSCRIBE Please think about sending a subscription check just $24 for four issues, 64 pages of pure poetry (shipping in the USA) made out to: Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry Charles Portolano, Editor P.O. Box 19186, Fountain Hills, AZ 85269 Sample copy - $6 With your subscription, The Weekly Avocet, every Wednesday, is sent by e-mail to all the friends of the Avocet to read and enjoy nature poetry for the-middle-of-the-week.

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They reside permanently on my kitchen table.

Each has a name, Help and Thank you.

If you want off of this list, please send an e-mail to cportolano@hotmail.com and write “unsubscribe” in the subject line.

Continued on next page -8-

One of our own, cont.

When words fail the poet he calls on these candlesticks to come to his aid in having Gratitude, Their flames are yellow, orange and prayer In his poem “Dankbarkeit, he writes of a “Holy and Eternal One,” who, in the imagination of the people plants dreams of justice and nurtures visions of peace.

When we have food in front of us it is easy to have dreams of justice and visions of peace. We should all, who are so blessed, be grateful to the “One” who grants us these gifts.

In “Gratitudine” Something seems askew, feels out of kilter, when I eat without first saying, Thank you – In the poem in page 34, the poet writes,

Guidelines for SUBMISSION

The Weekly Avocet every Wednesday, an e-mail of Nature Poetry • Please send only one poem, per poet, per season. Let’s do spring-themed poetry now.

• Please no more than 38 lines per poem.

• Please use single spaced lines.

• Please use the Times New Roman - 12pt. font.

• Please send your submission to angeldec24@hotmail.com • Please remember, previously published poems are wanted.

• Please always put your name and e-mail address under your poem. Thank you.

Poems by Charles H. Harper

Home

After I finished reading these thoughtprovoking, powerful Welcome to HarperPoetry.com poems, I felt my being at peace for all that I have been given. Reading these poems is like taking a hike on the first perfect Spring day, after the meanness and coldness of a cruel Winter is finally over, you are just so grateful to feel a slight breeze keeping you cool under a strong, warm sun. I believe the purpose of poetry is to provoke thought: this book makes us think about how good our lives are that we get to eat every day; this book make us think about those who are not as fortunate as us; this book gives us the words to express one’s Gratitude for being alive and for what we have been given; this book makes us more human and humane. I am grateful for having a chance to read and learn from it. This is a book worth reading!

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Thank you for your visit. As you browse this website, I invite you to go to the Featured Poem link. Additional poetry will be found at the Books link. I hope you will find something that intrigues you.

If you desire to comment on anything you find here, go to the Contact link. A poem sometimes touches us in ways that make us want to respond. Whether you are commenting on a poem, or ordering a book, or simply saying, “hello,” I am pleased to hear from you.

Chuck

Here on this spinning blue planet, no other like it in the universe as far as we can see, how easy to take for granted all the common things with which we are surrounded.

Or in his wonderful poem “Valentine’s Day, Grateful for every tug of conscience and compassion pulling us further out into widening circles of love and justice in our wounded world

A poem may make you laugh, cry, think, change, swear, wonder – one or any combination thereof.

It may take you to vistas never before seen or habitations long forgotten A poem may flare into an ah-ha moment, or slowly persuade a reluctant wick

A poem may baffle you, failing to ignite even one small spark of recognition.

When this happens to me I walk away – and sometimes will visit it again to see if I have learned its language or it has learned mine A poem may be brief or wispish, but if it is real it is never trivial or unnecessary

I could tell you a story from my youth – how a poem magically morphed into an icon that, over all these years, has never stopped whispering

It can be ordered at www.harperpoetry.com. Or people can e-mail their request to chatharper@comcast.net. The book will be mailed with an invoice enclosed. The e-mail should include the street address to which the book should be sent.

I am more Look deeper

Poetry by Charles H. Harper

http://www.harperpoetry.com/[4/2/2013 3:28:15 PM]

Reviewed by Charles Portolano, Editor of The Avocet and The Weekly Avocet