March 22: Butterfly, Psalm 14, Spring Snow, and Keepin' It Real

Again, I woke this morning with the panic of having to write another poem.  I have been so lucky in the last 13 days, and I'm constantly worried that my luck is going to dry up and blow away like a cow patty in a summer pasture.  I know that if I continue to worry about getting writer's block, eventually it's going to strike.  So I have to stop obsessing and just let go of my fears.  There are things I can control, and there are things beyond my control.  Inspiration, poetic muse, whatever you want to call it--that falls into the latter category.

The National Weather Service has issued a winter weather advisory for my area tonight.  That means that there's a "potential" for a lot of snow tonight through tomorrow night.  Let me translate that into Yooper speak for you:  we will be getting a shitload of snow where I live (in the higher elevations), and the driving is going to suck monkeyballs tomorrow morning.  When you live in the Upper Peninsula, you learn to read between the lines of weather advisories.

The poem today is about this storm that is supposed to be blowing in overnight.  I'm not looking forward to it, but it beats earthquakes and tsunamis, that's for sure.  I just finished talking to my writing class about Flannery O'Connor, and tonight I have to read a couple chapters of John Hersey's Hiroshima for my good books class.  I know what you're thinking, but, no, I did NOT choose that book because of Japan's current situation.  However, it does make the reading of the book much more real.  Two days ago, I showed slide shows to my good books students with photos from the bombing of Hiroshima and the aftereffects of the tsunami.  I found the juxtaposition quite moving.

I just believe in keepin' it real for my students.  And for my readers.

So, Saint Marty provides you with a little chaos theory (the butterfly effect) with his psalm for today.

This isn't my child, but it's a cute picture

Psalm 14:  Spring Snow Storm

The weather guy, in his ugly tie,

Predicts six to twelve inches tonight,

A spring storm out of Alaska, Canada,

Winds as strong as cattle trains.

Tomorrow, I will wake to this creature,

This force of different fronts from ocean,

Mountain, glacier, tundra.  I’ve heard

It said a butterfly’s wings, trembled

On African savannah, causes hurricanes

On the Gulf Coast, another flood

In the Big Easy, wipes out Mardi Gras

For good, an oil slick of jazz

On magnolia, pelican wing, bayou.

I wonder if the collective gasp in Japan

After earthquake and tsunami caused

This early spring snow, set into motion

Winds across the Pacific, bore

That shock and grief through salt,

Through supermoon, mixed it with cries

Of caribou and polar bear, brought

It to me, to my home, snow falling

On roof and car, snow on street, lawn,

Gas station, church steeple, snow

Everywhere, heavy as a thousand souls.

Tonight, when I press my lips to my son’s

Fingers, somewhere on this planet

Rain will start to fall in a desert place,

Filling the land with green life.