Cancer: My Teacher (click here to read my cancer journey poems)
Poems of the Pandemic
Below are some of the poems I have written during this time when we are called to witness, to support each other and lift each other up, to do intense purging of all that does not serve us anymore, to heal our wounds–personal and collective, to shift into a new age, a spiritual evolution.
"Corvid Drops the R"
(Part 1)
Crow speaks of Death
Crow knows
Crow nags
Crow pecking the neck of Eagle as it flies
high over borderless land
Our Spirit animal Eagle transcending. . . .
As we shift from this 4-year cycle of disaster,
domination, destruction and death
disregard for the law, the Constitution,
for “We the People”
where some of us whites look helplessly to our
Black sisters to raise us up
While Black brothers still being beaten, punched, kicked, dragged, hung and torched
Shot in the back
Where a knee on the football field and a knee on the neck
have rallied a nation
We the People
will no longer stand for this
standing together
on boulevards, on bridges, in ‘burbs
Black Lives Matter
BLACK
LIVES
MATTER
Land back,
Protect the Water
Protect Each Other
Wear a mask
Be the change
Change
Change
Change.
(Part 2)
Crow speaks the Truth
Crow keeps the Sacred Laws
Corvid drops the R
Respiration
Racism
Rage
While George Floyd pleads
“I can’t breathe”
All over the land
Black & Brown
Red & almost dead
bodies
in hospital ER’s
can’t breathe
can’t breathe
[R U listening?]
A murder of crows
looks on
drops an R bomb:
Republican Rioters
reckless refusal
Radical Religious Right
While the unmasked white
Alt-Right
Storm the seat of democracy
defile the Capitol
because they are sore losers
because they are out of control
desperate, afraid, explosive
unhinged and unaccountable
Haters on both sides
While body bags stack up
at inner city morgues
and on the rez.
[R U listening?]
While beautiful beings continue to vibrate & create
Collaborate
Empower, uplift, share online and on air
their hearts, minds, and souls
Newly imagined paths to move through,
out, forward, beyond
A 21st Century renaissance
A redemption
Corvid drops an R:
COVID time
to Rebirth
Re-organize
Re-energize
Remember
Repair
Restore.
[R U listening?]
(Part 3)
Crow teaches us about Mystery, Magick
Crow calls us to justice, shapeshifting us to peace
Breath
Buoyancy
Respiration. . .inspiration
A presidential Minnesota man of integrity dies
while the next day
a Minnesota policeman is finally convicted of murdering George Floyd.
Eagle watches. Eagle waits.
Breathe in
Breathe out
Breathe in
Breathe out
[R U?]
© Eileen Mielenhausen
5/2/21
[I started writing this poem on Nov. 22, 2020. Like our racial justice work, it remains unfinished and incomplete.]
"Your Ancestors" Your people must have been kings and queens Royalty Artisans Warriors Hunters and gatherers Healers to have endured capture torture slavery the unbearable work in plantation fields the whippings the tearing apart of families the rapings to produce more possessions and free labor for the Master To have experienced, endured survived and thrived To have birthed the radiance the genius the creativity the beauty—the hope—the future that is you. My people have atonement, reparations, and healing work to do. Then our people can begin to be One. © Eileen Mielenhausen 2/25/21, Black History Month [Inspired by “Chaos or Community?” talk by Michael Eric Dyson, https://www.alternativeradio.org/products/dysm005/]
“Beast of the Epiphany” [with a nod to “The Second Coming” by William Butler Yeats]
What epiphany here
on this dark day in our nation’s Capitol?
No gifts of the Magi
here
Only thousands of wanderers
recklessly paying homage to their false king
worshipping a false idolatry
A failed regime
A war they lost
A confederacy of wounded souls
A conspiracy of fools
Here
A nation torn asunder
Brother Sister
Mother Father
Neighbor from neighbor. . . .
The centrists cannot hold;
We are spinning out of control.
Who lied?
Who died?
Who has lost their way?
What rough beasts
slouch towards Bethlehem?
While the rest of us—
just trying to survive—
follow that yonder star
The beacon of Light
that is Hope Equity Justice
Democracy
Community . . .Compassion. . .
Love.
What epiphany here
in the midnight sky?
The truth so clear—
The healing must begin.
© Eileen Mielenhausen
1/6/21
"Praise for Being Broken Open" Inspired by Jane Hirshfield—“Poems are acts of rescue.” Praise for the lavender, the lilac, the buttercup, blossoms opening azalea, clover, crabapple, rose sweet pea and potato. Praise for the garden chard, lettuce, compost, and worm the constant sun and the promise of rain. Praise for the pollinators Bee-ing of service, Butterflies alighting, touching hearts one by one. Praise for the new day breaking birdsong waking people shifting from sleep people rising the worker bees, pollinators of Truth Beauty Justice Love. Praise for clouds dancing by, eagles and gulls, wings on the wind wind on the water through the window as I lay broken on my bed like the world in this turning season broken and broken open. © Eileen Mielenhausen 6/14/20
“Blue Horizons” Walking the trail Listening to waterfall The Waters of March “It’s the joy in your heart” Walking the trail Muck and mud and melting ice Springtime in Maine Wind, forest and flood “It’s the mud, it’s the mud” Sun going down on pine and cedar and spruce “Song of a thrush” Woodcocks at dusk And the trail wanders on And the trail leads to ocean “It’s the end of the road. . . It’s a little alone” Sentinel stones Smell of saltwater A cleansing, a birth It’s a new beginning The healing of Earth “A fish, a flash, a silvery glow” and all I know are blue horizons. “And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March, It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart.” © Eileen M. Mielenhausen 3/26/20 words in italics from “Waters of March” by Antonio Carlos Jobim
“In honor of MaryAnn Milcetic’s 59th non-birthday” A builder, a baker, an exceptional salad maker A sewer, a singer, a survivor and a scientist “Finding God in a Scanning Electron Microscope.” Up on the roof or down in the cellar— “they” was a talented fixit fella. Artist, writer, drumkit drummer Riffin’ on electric guitars Dancing with me under the stars. Personal trainer, real estate broker Animal lover, open mic jokester Freebird on the Stairway to Heaven.... Rockin’ out at your Green Street Church or at our Hallowell house Our life was always filled with music, friends, doggies, love and laughter. A gift, a treasure, a beautiful life of play, pain, and pleasure. Runner, racer, swimmer, skier Best friend, partner, seeker, believer You’re flying now Finally Finding God. © Eileen M. Mielenhausen 3/22/21
"Every February" “February is so long it goes into March.” —Dar Williams The longest month of anniversaries and memories celebrations of life and funerals marching us toward our own mortality. February: The way the ice freezes on the lake like my heart thick & deep with grief melting then freezing again making it difficult to stay upright waiting for spring to thaw me totally. Trees hung heavy with snow and crystal coats of ice. Frigid. Rigid. Your Jeep snowed in Your lifeless body Cold and hard like the pews in your church saying goodbye to you in 2002. Black ice spinning your Subaru out of control in 2017. Lighting candles in the darkness and singing in circle. Remembering you, my dears, around the fires of Imbolc every February. © Eileen Mielenhausen 2/18/21