And the seasons March on

 Happy Leap Day!

about to take a leap!!

Photo by J. Harrington

Now that we’ve taken care of that, let’s move on. Tomorrow is March 1. March promises to be a busy month. Without getting personal with things like birthdays, etc., next month will bring many of us:

• Women’s History Month
• Super Tuesday (5th)
• Daylight Saving Time (10th)
• The Ides (15th)
• St. Patrick’s Day (17th)
• Spring Equinox (20th)
• Palm Sunday (24th)
• Good Friday (29th) and,
• Easter (31st)

There are others not listed I’m sure, plus whatever may pop up, like one or two government shutdowns. It occurs to me that, if we could force through a constitutional amendment limiting political campaigns to no more than 60 (30?) days before an election, we could undermine the effects of Citizens United and the amount of irritation related to constant seeking of donations and being subjected to ads. One can only spend so much in a limited time and it could serve as an intermediate step to using public funds only for political campaigns.

Dear March—Come in—(1320)

Emily Dickinson
1830 – 1886

Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—
Did you leave Nature well—
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me—
I have so much to tell—

I got your Letter, and the Birds—
The Maples never knew that you were coming—
I declare - how Red their Faces grew—
But March, forgive me—
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue—
There was no Purple suitable—
You took it all with you—

Who knocks? That April—
Lock the Door—
I will not be pursued—
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied—
But trifles look so trivial 
As soon as you have come

That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame—

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

Pieces of women’s history for today

 In addition to being the day after Thanksgiving (Bye, Nothing Day), today is also Women’s Merry Making Day and Native American Heritage Day. I can think of no better way to honor all of those themes than to share Joy Harjo’s signature project as poet laureate, Living Nations, Living Words. 

I hope you follow the link and enjoy her work as much  as I do. As she wrote:

We understand poetry to be a living language—whether it is in our tribal languages, or in English, or another language. We use poetry to mark transformations, as in love letters, elegies, or epithalamium. Poetry can be useful for praise and even to help deter a storm. Or poetry is a tool to uncover the miraculous in the ordinary.

American Indian Cultural Corridor

Photo by J. Harrington

From the “Living”  collection, Louise Erdrich’s poem fits the day and the times really well

Advice to Myself

by Louise Erdrich

Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic-decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in through the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.