Sunday, August 30, 2009

83 days of gratitude on the wall...

of late
something
has been getting under my skin
crawling

or perhaps poking
tugging at my thoughts

i have posted about this feeling
now realizing over the last few months
we have all written about it

why is that?

sure that my mother had these moments
which likely went
undetected by others
as she vacuumed
washed dishes
or forgot one or another of us
behind on a playdate

(before playdates were invented)

yet still wondering
how can it be that our lives
with all our differing circumstance
have one thing in common?

panic

reading bedtime stories
(a dictionary of mythical creatures
lovely pictures alongside
disinformation about the
much maligned medusa)

we came across pan

http://romanhistorybooks.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/06/19/jeanfranois_de_troy__pan_and_syri_2.jpg

'rocky hills and green valleys
meadows and woodlands
olive groves, wild grapevines
and sparkling streams

this was the domain of pan

even though he was a god
pan was very lonely
sometimes he was overcome with despair
and simply sat in a dark cave
howling like a wounded animal

...anyone who heard them was
gripped
by a terrible fear known as
panic'

and online

' "pertaining to pan,"
the god of woods and fields
who was the source of mysterious sounds that caused
contagious groundless fear
in herds and crowds
or in people in lonely spots'

how is it
that we are
a herd
a crowd
yet still lonely?

where are the days
of beating laundry against stones
laughing
nursing
singing together

as we beat out the
dirt of life
along with fear
confusion
loneliness?

now we
type type type

commiserate
across the miles
while our neighbor weeps
alone

i hear it in the trees
and wish the
late summer wind
would sweep through us
i wish fear
could be carried

away

ms moon
speaks of communion
and i wonder
what more sacred
gift than a
collective breath

in
and out

and with it
all that keeps us apart
all that makes
howl along with pan's
lonely dirge

i think on these things
and know
it will be

whether
i am here to witness
or my children
or my children's children

it will be
and i feel gratitude
knowing

one day
the crooked places
will be made straight

9 comments:

  1. This is a perfect poem to community, to women, to writing and sharing and realizing that one is NOT alone. Thank you.

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  2. Wow. I had no idea that Pan had anything to do with panic.
    You have me so much to think about in that post. As always.
    I do know that when I was going through the worst of my panic last summer the people who communicated with me through my blog helped more than they could ever know. I never felt quite as alone as I would have without them and that was part of what saved me.

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  3. "now we
    type type type

    commiserate
    across the miles
    while our neighbor weeps
    alone"

    God--isn't that the truth? This gave me pause, and this was a beautiful post.

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  4. wow...
    p.s. thanks for playing along! your comments are always fun! besos-jane

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  5. Adrienne, I don't know how to respond. But I am here, across the miles.

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  6. you freakin ROCK, damn it! Surely, you should be PAID to write this post!!!! You write things that I have NO IDEA I am even feeling....not until you type them and I read do I even realize the emotions buried deep inside.

    Now, wait.....YOU are miles and miles away....BUT, you are also my neighbor...correct?

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  7. this is really lovely...and the idea of aloneness while surrounded is essential to understanding much about our time, imo

    ReplyDelete