Apple Orchard

Apple Orchard

this ain’t a walk

in an apple orchard

stumbling through sunlight here

only warms the mantle

of a damp chill air

that gripped him

in the lyrical wee small hours

this morninglit bridge to and from

daytime’s sun-drenched monotony

against such waylayed sleep

grave dead chill

concrete pillow

and hard wood cold steel bench

bitter stone cranny

offers no creature comfort promise

no whimsical waltz

through fields or meadows

redolent with a hint of springtime

hand gropes through debris

through newspapers

holds fast to a lifetime’s trove

on shopping cart’s quiver

feasted remnants

purchased piece-meal

with foraged generosity

clings tight to futile dreams of lazing

in this apple orchard

craving a world apart

craving some succulent sweetness

of rubescent fruit

hanging high and

out of reach

that 
 changes to green

as street-lit

diesel stench rumble

rattle and hum of days

of the other side in motion

and that once-enticing red orb

signals again

the halt of traffic

his orchard bed still recalls

this soul-cold sidewalk reality

ã2008 Bill Ashwell

Last

This is my last regular contribution to What’s the Good Word. More than six hundred posts ago, we launched this blog as a way to stay in touch with the membership of Canada East Mission. It was intended to be somewhat less formal than memos to pastors or weekly announcements. It was offered to any who wanted to read it, no directions, no filters. We meant to let the general population know of all the positive things that were going on in the various congregations and neighbourhoods around our extended Community.

We decided to focus on the idea of the Good Word and to keep our news upbeat. That really hasn’t been difficult, as the good deeds continue to happen and to spread! Our blog evolved as Mission President Carman joined in with an occasional good word too. His participation now is roughly half the postings, so he won’t have any problem continuing as the primary blogger. (But please encourage him with the occasional response; it makes him feel good when you comment.)

In talking about the future of the CEM Blog, Carman and I have identified several ways we have benefited. Identifying a “good word” or a “reportable item” has given our ministry an important focus. We’ve never collaborated or consulted with one another about what we’ll post; and yet, we almost always find ourselves lifting up similar issues or questions or wonderful observations we’ve noted in our travels and communications around the Mission. Sometimes our “news” turns into an almost-meditation as we try to articulate feelings we’re having or struggles we’re thinking about. We long ago decided that these too qualify as “good words.” So those postings that feel more like poems have crept into our blog.

Both of us have poetic tendencies, as you’ve noticed. And this has been an excellent writing practice for me. But herein lies the reason for my decision to make this my “last post.” I really do want and intend to establish an ongoing writing practice. I need to shift my focus from a daily five-hundred word commentary on a current Mission issue and let it loose into whatever new country my imagination needs to explore. I need to unhitch my thoughts from the discipline of regular blog-writing into something new.

I believe Carman intends to allow me the occasional guest blogger position. I know he needs to change his implied promise to a daily blog. He may even be able to recruit some other guests to help him maintain this essential conversation. In other words “What’s the Good Word” will continue! But for me, I wish him and all of you a bright future. Thank you for all your encouragement, for your faithful reading and thoughtful reflections. This is my last regular post, but I’ll let you know when my writing practice yields something new for you to read (perhaps even a personal blog, eventually). Meantime, keep on with following “What’s the Good Word.”

Posted by Marion

Poem

The following poem is from Jeremiah 20 in the Hebrew Scriptures. I invite you to spend some time in it today. It is, for me at least, powerful and compelling. You might want to read it several times, picturing the prophet/poet in his room or in the streets, wrestling with the words and with God.

If it helps you, you might want to imagine Danny Belrose reciting this lament in his dramatic style, capturing the rhythm and drama of the piece. Allow the words and images to caress and massage your heart and mind.

May you know yourself blessed today.

*************************

O LORD, you have enticed me,
and I was enticed;
you have overpowered me,
and you have prevailed.
I have become a laughing-stock all day long;
everyone mocks me.
For whenever I speak, I must cry out,
I must shout, ‘Violence and destruction!’
For the word of the LORD has become for me
a reproach and derision all day long.
If I say, ‘I will not mention him,
or speak any more in his name’,
then within me there is something like a burning fire
shut up in my bones;
I am weary with holding it in,
and I cannot.
For I hear many whispering:
‘Terror is all around!
Denounce him! Let us denounce him!’
All my close friends
are watching for me to stumble.
‘Perhaps he can be enticed,
and we can prevail against him,
and take our revenge on him.’
But the LORD is with me like a dread warrior;
therefore my persecutors will stumble,
and they will not prevail.
They will be greatly shamed,
for they will not succeed.
Their eternal dishonour
will never be forgotten.
O LORD of hosts, you test the righteous,
you see the heart and the mind;
let me see your retribution upon them,
for to you I have committed my cause.
- Jeremiah 20:7-12

Posted by Carman

Favourites

I could have posted a response to Carman's question yesterday as a Comment, but then many of you would never read it! And I want to give you some more poetry to think about, so I'm extending the conversation in today's posting.

Have I read any good poet's lately? Oh Yes, indeed I have. I carry a little book of Robert Frost around with me in my car, for long lines or construction delays or while waiting for the ferry. I love Robert Frost. His poems are so well built they almost make me cry. He can talk about a hay field or a fence in a way that is so very simple and yet just so complex it makes me shiver. Robert Frost hated so-called free verse. He said it was the equivalent of playing tennis without a net!

Another poet I also love, and who has the added attraction of still being alive is Billy Collins I've most recently been reading The Best American Poetry of 2006. The reason I picked 2006 is because it was edited by Billy Collins and I love the way he talks about poetry. So the Introduction is as wonderful as the whole rest of the book.

If you are one who thinks poetry is boring, it could be that you've been reading what Collins describes as poems whose opening lines make me feel I have walked in on the middle of a Swedish movie being run backward with no subtitles. He'd be with you on that and would quickly reject such a poem. None of the seventy-five poems offered in this little text make you feel that way. They all make you want to do what Collins' own poem entitled Introduction to Poetry invites you to do. Here it is. Just have fun with it!

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

If you chance upon a book of Billy Collins' poems, be sure to pick it up. You'll find something in there to enjoy. Guaranteed!

Oh, and here's what he looks like (no stamp yet):

Posted by Marion

Autumn

The view off my deck is very decidedly moving in an autumnal direction. I am awakened every morning by a cacophony of goose honking. (I considered using "Honk!" as today's "good word" but rejected it quickly. There's not much good to say about Honk! in my humble opinion at this moment.

I am reminded, however, of another autumn week once when I was taking a writing class. Our teacher challenged us to write a Haiku Poem each day for the next week. My reaction, as usual--rebel that I am--was to think "No, I don't do haiku." Haiku had never typically been my genre. But then neither had any other type of poetry. And my commitment to the class was to at least give it a try.

Now, a few years later, as the leaves change colour, the geese begin to assemble for migration, the squirrels get crazy active, my thoughts turn to Haiku.

Fat frantic squirrel
hides nuts in the window box.
Alas, poor fool.

Birds wait on the line
listening for the signal
telling them "Head south!"

Blackbirds swell in
undulating wave against
a grey autumn sky.

Wings wide--landing gear
down--wild geese follow their feet
into the ground.

Orange orange orb
balances on purple hills
then drops out of sight.

There you go. Five of my haiku a day for an autumn week. What about you? Any budding haiku poets out there? By all means share.

Posted by Marion