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A New Earth ~ Week 3 & 4 & so on . . .

Here we are, a day from Week 5, and I've not yet written about the Week 3 & 4 Webcasts.

I'm trying a new approach, the AlAnon adage Take what you like and leave the rest. Whiskey River, as is often the case, gives me just what I need:

"Listening, whether to a book or to a person, is the most challenging of the arts, because in listening truly we have to become aware of our own resistances to what is being said, which might be the truth; we must be able to be open and vulnerable in following the thoughts of another person as sincerely, deeply, and imaginatively as we can."
- Krishnan Venkatesh

Of course, there is also this point of view, via Ample Sanity:

"Once a woman passes a certain point in intelligence it is almost impossible to get a husband: she simply cannot go on listening to men without snickering."
- H.L. Mencken

Actually, though, I am listening. And reading. I'm reading several books at once, and the massive handouts for the Life Writing class I'll be taking next month. I'm also writing. Just not here.

I will be here in April, though.

Cat Herding

Yes, I've been neglectful of my responsibilities to the cat blogging world. But this -- this -- is too good to pass up. In honor of my cat blogging and Montana friends, I present:

 

My uncles would have loved this. Thanks to Facebook friend Sheri for sending it to me.

Spike & Boo say Howdy!

  

More cat blogging here:

• The Carnival of the Cats, now at Chey's Place; this Sunday it will be at Nikita's Place
  
• Weekend Cat Blogging last weekend was at The Catboy's Realm; this weekend you will find it at Catsynth
• Bad Kitty Cats Festival of Chaos is at Life From A Cat's Perspective and will be at Bad Kitty Cats Journal; and, last but certainly not least,
  
• Friday Ark #184 at Modulator

NaPoWriMo

April is National Poetry Month, and for those bloggers who like challenges, it's also National Poetry Writing Month, or NaPoWriMo:

April approacheth, and stalking in its shadow is NAPOWRIMO, that juggernaut of poetic output. Here's the deal: through the efforts of countless poets nationwide, National Poetry Month is transformed into National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), and thus from ugly duckling into Giant Robot Duckling That Destroys Cities through the Might of its Verse.

Those who accept the NaPoWriMo challenge must commit themselves to writing a poem every day for the entirety of April.

Maureen at SQUASH BLOSSOM!

I did this two years ago, and made a weak attempt last year. This year, I'm accepting the challenge, with modifications: I shall post a poem (new or old) or a poetry- related post every day in April. So speaketh the (moderately) ambitious blogging poet.

ReadWritePoem is also getting onboard, and Ivy has more buttons here. A board called Poetry Free For All is also playing -- this might be an option for non-bloggers. Poems will be blooming all over the web next month.

I'm moderating my ambition because I'll be taking a -- not unrelated -- class next month: Life Writing: Journal & Memoir, through the University's MOLLI program. I suspect this will incite poems, but I want to give myself permission to do other sorts of writing as well.

Snapshot Poem 26 March 02008

It's spring again. The garden knows it. From beneath,
green and purple leaves, reaching up. Reaching out.

A winter vine climbs the fence. It separates the boards.
Strong and woody, it goes where it pleases. In all directions.

A Japanese lantern hangs on a steel hook. At night, long
winter nights, it warms the garden. I am not like other

people. I watch them, for clues. A woman passes by
with two small dogs on a leash. She smiles. Why?   

I go to the door and look through the glass. On the fence,
at my eye level, a black cat looks back at me. I open

the door, and the cat vanishes in an arc over the fence.
A squirrel eats buds from a scrap tree. A weed, aggressive,

but harmless in its own right, it feeds the tree rats, the various
birds. I am chased by a monster. It's kill or be killed. I am so weak

I can barely lift the hammer; the blow only cracks the monster's
bald skull. Like an egg, cracking. This happens many times, many

iterations. I find a green light and shine it on the monster. I sing it
a love song, and it dies, finally, peacefully. Sitting very still, I hold

my aging cat against my aging breasts. We both purr. With my
breath, we purr. I decide to allow deep pleasure back into my life.

A snow shovel stands against the wall. Unused, unneeded, this
warm spring. Everything has a function. We all do what we must.

Snapshot Poem, Spring Equinox

Worm Moon, Crow Moon

Crow Moon, tonight you fly
at the balance of the year,
half light, half dark, tipping
your wing toward spring.

Crow Moon, caw away
this winter, gnaw the last
crusts of snow from the
frozen garden. Shine

the earthworms up to
the surface. Worm Moon,
Crow Moon, Full Sap Moon,
wake us up once more.

Mar. 21, 2:40 p.m. EDT — Full Worm Moon. In this month the ground softens and the earthworm casts reappear, inviting the return of the robins. The more northern tribes knew this as the Full Crow Moon, when the cawing of crows signals the end of winter, or the Full Crust Moon because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night. The Full Sap Moon, marking the time of tapping maple trees, is another variation. This is also the Paschal Full Moon; the first full moon of the spring season. The first Sunday following the Paschal Moon is Easter Sunday, which indeed will be observed two days later on Sunday, March 23. This will, in fact, be the earliest Easter since 1913.