Volume XI, Issue 17
April 27, 2022
Dear ,
I'm grateful each week when I receive my "GRIFFIN~POETRY verse and image" email. No relation, by the way, although I feel a real kinship with Bill for our shared love of poetry and the natural world. Bill's email notification always gives a little taste of what his new post holds. I could not resist clicking when I read this:
It is something between
lament and celebration,
perhaps both at once,
from Earth Song, David Radavich
Earth Day Every Day – where do we go from here?
poems by David Radavich, Peter Makuck, Paul Jones, Sam Barbee
tips for reducing human impact on the planet
The "Earth Day Every Day" spoke to me so much, on the other side of Earth Day, and the words from David Radavich's poem spoke to me so strongly, too, here at the tail end of April, National Poetry Month. Lament and celebration, both at once, is how I so often feel each time I
take in the beauty of our earth, whether it's the dogwood's last blossoms in my back yard or the sunrise walks I take on my beloved Sunset Beach twice a year or a tromp on a trail off the Blue Ridge Parkway.
And once I read Bill Griffin's entire post (and all of Radavich's poem), I knew this post had to be this week's featured writing. Because in addition to the gorgeous poems and Bill's always thoughtful commentary, he offers simple suggestions for helping out our beautiful, fragile, much beleaguered earth.
Small changes, if done by many of us, can make a big difference. I'm grateful for all the people, including you, who are willing to give up a little on behalf of the earth, each other, and those who will follow.
An Excerpt from Bill Griffin's
Earth Song—Earth Day
Epilogue
(featuring a poem by David Radavich)
Earth Song
It is something between
lament and celebration,
perhaps both at once,
perpetually mourning yet
dancing in survival
like the seed that
disappears one whole season
then erupts in a plume
of green or garish purple.
Animals hear it, even plants,
but rarely humans
who are too busy raking
off what they can never get
enough of, this free air
that awards us love
in every verse.
Listen to the chorus
tonight and always,
so long as we’re alive
among the sentience
even now chanting
all around us
like bells or birds.
~ David Radavich
❦ ❦ ❦
I am trying to listen, Earth. I hear the celebration, I breathe it in, I feel it in my chest and beneath my feet. But I hear the lament as well. Loud, always louder. Is it even possible for me to give more than I take, or is despair all that is left for me? Left for us?
What can this one single person do to preserve you, Earth?
To read Bill Griffin's entire Earth Song—Earth Day Epigraph blogpost, click here.
WordPlay Now! Writing
Prompt
This is WordPlay—so why not
revel in the power and potential of one good word after another? This week, it's "earth."
PROMPT:
This week, write about a time you (or anyone else, real or fictional) experienced peace, beauty, and/or joy while sitting, standing, walking, hiking, or in any way enjoying or benefitting from our earth. (What just popped into my mind was berry-picking with my mother and siblings when I was growing up.)
MAUREEN RYAN GRIFFIN, an award-winning poetry and nonfiction writer, is the author of
Spinning Words into Gold, a Hands-On Guide to the Craft of Writing, a grief workbook entitled I Will Never Forget You, and two collections of poetry, This
Scatter of Blossoms and When the Leaves Are in the Water. She believes, as author Julia Cameron says, "We are meant to midwife dreams for one another."
Maureen also believes that serious "word work" requires serious WordPlay, as play is how we humans best learn—and perform. What she loves best is witnessing all the other dreams that come true for her
clients along the way. Language, when used with intentionality and focus, is, after all, serious fuel for joy. Here's to yours!
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