an aptly angry archer

pulls taut the bow.

across the sky

the big dipper is empty.

i can’t locate cancer

but i feel it.

and yet a bright beacon

in the western moonless sky!

i don’t know the stars well

but i do read the tao (77)

i have a friend who is an astrologer.

she is angry.

i have a friend who is not an astrologer.

she is angry, too.

many seem to be wondering

when will we just let it go?

i heard from two friends yesterday about anger. my love and i went for a walk in the cool night air. looking west down our street with all it’s dark houses, we were struck by a perfectly framed, intensely bright planet. (apparently not ours)

looking down at us, as if we didn’t exist, i wondered what was that planet’s name?

we continued our walk down another dark street and saw the archer; one of my favorite constellations. the bow was drawn. aimed at what, i wondered?

just a bit north of east the big dipper, the first constellation i learned as a child, was upside down. no water to cook food on the stove top. not a drop of stardust in it. am i a fool to think our gravity touches it? my perspective?

i didn’t think about cancer until this morning as the poem formed in my morning transition from sleep to wake. why aren’t we angry (less lately) about cancer? one in four is just a statistic?

i spent time mindfully looking into my anger. could i use it to strengthen my immune system? to change my health? to imagine some new work to do? to brighten our planet?

then i thought of Ursula K. Le Guin’s lovely rendition of the seventy seventh tao. the bow of heaven. she also wrote about a lathe.

strange times, these. strange times.

https://www.ursulakleguin.com/translations-non-fiction

in the linden tree out front
i hope they are building a nest
to produce more lovely singers

and there’s a lawn mower
down the street spewing exhaust
to tire the efforts of said birds

and judas, the one who carried the money bag,
says, master, couldn’t this front lawn
have been used to grow food for the poor?

chill, judas, says the master
anytime you want
you can grow food

mark 14:7

there was once a church
that didn’t believe in virology
that provided virologists
a wonderful opportunity to study.

in the church they study the word;
strive to believe it, too.
too bad other people
don’t study their word.

in the church which is
in the world,
where we all live,
we speak words.

in this church,
it’s good
to pay
attention.

in my church
we all like
simple
poems.

i have wandered among them some;
brought my children to meet them. i have
had some honest, enlightening conversation
about what works.

if i were a funded cultural anthropologist,
i’d go live among them and learn
the same kind of things
as forest monks.

the forest is full of wild nature.
small groups of bipeds
don’t dominate here,
they have to adapt.

but i guess i don’t have to do that;
looks like, soon, all of us
will be attending
mama’s famous home school.


Jesus, they say, was homeless before resurrection.
i wish you a blessed Easter and remember that Passover was about leaving Egypt.

https://www.newyorker.com/news/dispatch/how-do-you-shelter-in-place-when-you-dont-have-a-home?

she is pregnant with large belly and breasts being made ready. she leans on me, touching strong legs and arms that are not sure what to do. i ask if we are ready.

this is not our first. each one has come differently. some have been lost and so we are wiser and more careful.

the birth of the new requires a compassionate community; midwives that dance, cry and moan with the mother, older children who know how to source and boil water and care for the younger, elders who sit quietly, and laugh, and pray.

i am not good at drawing pictures, yet, but i imagine.

(imagine your beloved pregnant, and focus)

sometimes it’s hard to remember my dreams. what sticks in the mud of my mind? this has been my attempt at remembering.

since it’s been declared that there will be no more school this year in the confines of the old buildings with classrooms of questionable origin, school will be home based and real:

yon yonson
mrs. kinder’s kindergarten class
6 apr 2020
home school assignment #3 write a poem and talk about it


the once and future nurse (a riddle)

there was a nurse,
and there will be;
though sorely oppressed these days,
to save us from coming disease.

the nurse knows the war
is just nature and not ours;
ours is how we live in this
past, present and future.

the nurse is mostly unknown,
though the best doctors and scientists
study the nurse with intimate care;
and the people believe they know.

the nurse works in and out of ICU;
has and will for millenia
in every single cell.
the nurse is not immune to truth.


end of quarter semi-final exam (in essay form for home school)

i’ve been spending some good time thinking here in home school and reading The Once and Future King. Merlin is such a hero! we all think we know so much! and it’s such a gift to learn! i heard about this virus thingy back at the end of january. i don’t much follow news but happened to be checking the BBC. wow! what’s this? i said. and then i forgot it. poor Wuhan! we seem to have remembered. poor us!

i knew back in the 60s when i was in 3rd grade that we were destroying the world and our very health with it. and then we forgot it.

a friend shared a great poem with me today by Catherine M. O’Meara


And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.

And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.

And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.


it’s gone viral and the viral version that i saw is that it was written in 1869 and reemerged for the spanish flu in 1919. according to https://womenyoushouldknow.net/fact-people-stayed-home-viral-poem-kitty-omeara-2020/ this is not true. and i site the site as this is a genuine kinder garten research paper: “Nevertheless, its sentiment and message are just as profound as if it had serendipitously reemerged from more than a century ago.” and we say, “my! isn’t that something!” and keep swiping on down the stream, other sites take advantage of its virality to get eyeballs of the factcheckers who must check facts. and advertisers support those sites for those who will order online for home delivery in these troubled times. can you order sane toilet paper for home delivery?

but we should stop.

here’s the poet’s original blog post: https://the-daily-round.com/2020/03/16/in-the-time-of-pandemic/

Oprah found and interviewed Kitty. you can read all about it here:
https://www.oprahmag.com/entertainment/a31747557/and-the-people-stayed-home-poem-kitty-omeara-interview/

we think we understand a bit about health. we think we understand a bit about ourselves. i’ve been thinking here in home school these weeks. i’ve been wrestling with my shadow. we need to wrestle with ours. i’ve been wondering about how to help. and i’ve been writing, like Kitty. and when i grow up, i hope to be as hopeful as she. i hope there’ll be a world to live on when i grow up to be like Kitty.

and the riddle? yeah, good question.

if i had a million free dollars

and i was afraid for our life,

i would help people out of their houses

who can’t afford to live there.

i would hire folks who know

regenerative, more permanent tending, agriculture.

i would turn all those lawns

into edible forest and high desert meadows. (this is the boise idaho version – see for your location location location)

i would start a global university

and call it compassion for u;

and those people whose houses you borrowed

could live and work there for free.

but i don’t.

i just have my pen.

a whole lot of my maps

seem to be falling off

of the map

these days

all the things i knew

i can’t locate.

the ones i can;

suddenly so precious.

you know what i mean?

these days

more of the things i don’t know

i begin to learn.

we seem to need maps

to the land

of humility.