All day long, all through the night,
all affairs—yours, ours, theirs—
are political affairs.
Whether you like it or not,
your genes have a political past,
your skin, a political cast,
your eyes, a political slant.
Whatever you say reverberates,
whatever you don’t say speaks for itself.
So either way you’re talking politics.
Even when you take to the woods,
you’re taking political steps
on political grounds.
Apolitical poems are also political,
and above us shines a moon
no longer purely lunar.
To be or not to be, that is the question.
And though it troubles the digestion
it’s a question, as always, of politics.
To acquire a political meaning
you don’t even have to be human.
Raw material will do,
or protein feed, or crude oil,
or a conference table whose shape
was quarreled over for months;
Should we arbitrate life and death
at a round table or a square one?
Meanwhile, people perished,
animals died,
houses burned,
and the fields ran wild
just as in times immemorial
and less political.
If your beloved has a birthday this month, or you and your beloved have an anniversary in June, you might especially like this poem.
ON YOUR BIRTHDAY, TODAY
On your birthday, today, there is time to reflect
On the essence of our intimacy,
From a beginning in the spring-tide of youth
To an afterward secured in the distant mist,
And for what reason and to what end it endures.
Each year I feel the consequence, keen
With up-welling of sentiment,
Where new love springs before the old
Has run its course (but its course is never run),
And each day adds its weight to the sum
We bear on that date this day in June,
To solidify with birthdays gone by
In an endless, banquet bequest.
Today we take time out to renew
And revisit the mood of our youthful love.
Tomorrow, with the same tremulous excitement
As beset us when we danced on its eve ‘til dawn
We will wed again.
I’ve been in the garden every day, at least a little, and often a lot. When I come downstairs in the morning and realize that it’s already warm enough that I can slide the glass door open, without thinking about it I slide open the screen door, too, and go out to have a look.
The bluebird parents can be seen flying back and forth to feed the peeping infants. Finches, sparrows, hummingbirds and even the flirty Bewick’s Wren fill the space with their songs. Oh, and crows. It is a new thing the last few years to have crows in my yard. I prefer the old way, and I politely ask them to leave. They leave but they come back.
Often in the morning I will put water in the fountain, and trim a little here or pull a weed there. Most days I seem to spend quite a while picking sweet peas.
The sweet peas have become very intimate with the perennial runner beans. The sweet peas were up on the trellis months earlier, and were covered with flowers when the bean stems emerged at three corners of the planter boxes and started climbing. They mostly twist their stems around the pea vines as they climb, and quickly they have outclimbed the peas.
The pea vines responded in kind, continuing their reach for the sky by holding on to the beans. This relationship has to end, though, because the peas are expiring while the beans are only now putting out a few flowers. So, the last couple of days when I pick the flowers, I’m also going to a lot of trouble to break up this love affair without breaking the bean stems. Let’s hope I can plan better and not let this situation develop next spring.
When the sun gets too high and I start to droop, I go indoors and do housework. Or read poems. I’ve been bingeing on them in the last week, and hope to share my favorites here eventually. Maybe in the fall when I have finished my Big Sort, the organizing of all my Stuff: rooms, closets, cabinets, drawers and belongings to throw, give or put away. I hope the Big Sort will be done long before that, but there is the garden…
AcanthusLemonLavender
I mixed up some fish emulsion and fed the lemon tree today. I wanted to give it more iron, too, but I read on the bottle that you should not apply that until late evening. It was time for a break, anyway, so here I am. And here is a poem I read last night, which I hope you like:
GARDENER’S PRAYER
O Lord, grant that in some way it may rain every day, Say from about midnight until three o’clock in the morning, But, You see, it must be gentle and warm so that it can soak in; Grant that at the same time it would not rain on campion, alyssum, helianthus, lavendar, and others which You in Your infinite wisdom know are drought-loving plants- I will write their names on a bit of paper if you like- And grant that the sun may shine the whole day long, But not everywhere (not, for instance, on the gentian, plantain lily, and rhododendron) and not too much; That there may be plenty of dew and little wind, enough worms, no lice and snails, or mildew, and that once a week thin liquid manure and guano may fall from heaven. Amen.
-Karel Matej Capek Chod (1860 -1927) Czech Republic
The poetry of this Psalm enlivens my spirit with its many action verbs that evoke the overflowing love and energies of God as we humans experience Him, being turned, quickened, gladdened; hearing our Father speak peace and living in His Kingdom where righteousness and peace kiss, truth springs up, and fruit naturally grows on the trees.
O God, Thou wilt turn and quicken us, and Thy people shall be glad in Thee.
Show us, O Lord, Thy mercy, and Thy salvation do Thou give unto us.
I will hear what the Lord God will speak in me; for He will speak peace to His people and to His saints and to them that turn their heart unto Him.
Surely nigh unto them that fear Him is His salvation, that glory may dwell in our land.
Mercy and truth are met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
Truth is sprung up out of the earth, and righteousness hath looked down from heaven.
Yea, for the Lord will give goodness, and our land shall yield her fruit.
Righteousness shall go before Him and shall set His footsteps in the way.