New Year's Day 2021
poem of mine, the eighth day of Christmas, the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God
Heart Throb Kousa Dogwood: New Year’s Day 2019
Last week as I walked in the park, a hawk
flew overhead, its wide wings enshadowing
the weak noonday sun, until it landed
on the bare branches of a box elder.Today on my walk, I noticed a bruised,
near empty nest wedged into the v-ed nook
of my favorite dogwood, the Kousa, called
the Heart Throb for its bright pink leaves.Next week I will see a gray heron, his long neck
gliding forward. There will be a cold spell
and a good woman will be buried in the earth,
her children weeping at her graveside.So much will happen between last week and next.
I will see another hawk. I will sleep late
in the morning and know that you love me,
not knowing if, how, can, I love you back.Today is New Year’s Day and strangely warm,
the ground still sodden from last year’s storms.
I walk in circles to keep from sinking. It’s quiet,
the world at rest. Then, wind stirs, the dead leaves rise.I am here looking for my gray heron, hoping to see him
standing on a rock in the middle of the river, his neck
stretched out, flowing forward from memory into time,
but he is not here so I circle back to the beginning:to the hawk enshadowed sun, to the throbbing heart,
its v-ed nook more spacious than the heavens.
Thank you to Brian at Lydwine for publishing this poem in his always enchanting journal, Lydwine. Please check it out, drop him a note, sign up to get each new edition emailed to you, and read the work he publishes.
2020 is officially over. There’s been lots of talk and chatter about 2020 and how bad it was, but, hopefully for all of us, some good things happened as well and we can be grateful for them. Each morning, first thing after I get my cup of tea, I write three pages, free hand, to clear my head. Today, I made note of the many things I am grateful for, including each of you for taking the time to read this newsletter. Thank you.
The song, New Year’s Day, by U2 (on their 1983 album War), started as a love song and morphed into a song about Lech Wales and the Polish Solidarity Movement.
Walesa was born in 1943 in German-occupied Poland. From early on, Walesa (he was an electrician in a shipyard) fought for workers’ rights, including the right to form unions and strike. Over the years, he lost many jobs due to his illegal activities, his home was bugged, he and his family were under constant surveillance by the Polish Secret Police, and Walesa was arrested several times.
The Solidarity movement was formed in 1980 as the first independent free trade union in a Warsaw Pact country to be recognized by the government with Walesa as its first Chairman. In December of 1981, martial law was declared in Poland and Walesa and other leaders and activists were arrested. Solidarity was outlawed in October of 1982.
In 1983, Walesa returned to his job at the shipyard and also won the Nobel Peace prize for his work, though his wife accepted his award as he feared that the Polish government would not allow him to return to the country if he left.
In 1989, Walesa ran for the newly re-established office of president. His slogan: "I don't want to, but I have to" ("Nie chcę, ale muszę."). In 1990, he won the presidential election, becoming Poland’s first non-communist head of state in 45 years.
There’s lots of fascinating information about Walesa, including accusations that he was a spy for the secret police in the 1970’s.
ON the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight maids a-milking, the eight beatitudes.
Today is the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God. One of the earliest titles given to Mary by the Church, and one of the most beautiful, is Theotokis, God-bearer. Without her fiat: "Be it done unto me according to Thy word," her willingness to accept the strange invitation from the God given to her by the Gabriel, without her willingness to risk everything, everything - her marriage to Joseph, her place in society, the respect and protection of her family and friends - the birth of Our Lord, the Resurrection, our very salvation would not be possible. The debt we owe her is impossible to repay. All we can do is love and honor her, and try, in our flawed, imperfect ways to do the will of her son.
And, if you are a non-believer, you’ve got to admit that it’s a heck of a story filled with intrigue, excitement, mystery, joy, sadness, despair, symbolism, hope, and worth knowing for all that.
And finally, an Irish toast for the new year:
May your right hand always be stretched out in friendship but never in want.
God bless you all and may your 2021 be filled with happiness, peace, joy, and good health.