Monday Morning Musings:
Inaugurate, we celebrate–
on what might have been.
Auspicious signs, windswept sky
through which geese fly
across bouclé textured-white—soaring high,
winging up the vibrant blue,
and astride the grey,
Pegasus gallops straight away
launching thunderbolts and bringing springs–
a refrain to the moon’s lullaby—
We sigh. We cry.
We wonder why
things came to this. The insurrectionists still kiss
and venerate their leader, they miss
the never-was, and foment hate, lurk, and wait.
But, for now, we celebrate–
and there’s a glow. We inaugurate,
new chiefs of state,
and new beginnings. Truth flows
over lies that decompose
with the swamp things—please go.
There are never shadows without light,
the future is brighter, if not bright.
The snow will melt; we’ll vaccinate,
our antibodies and gleaming dreams.
We’re still in a pandemic. I haven’t gone anywhere or done anything special, but we have a new president and vice-president! Already the inauguration seems far in the past, but it’s been less than a week. People report finally having a good night’s sleep, and there’s a sense of hope and optimism in the air. Nevertheless, we are still in the midst of a pandemic, and it’s been revealed by multiple legitimate news sources that the now twice-impeached former resident of the White House, had no plan for vaccine distribution. And the business of governing goes on.
Meanwhile, it’s been cold and blustery here. I made borscht and baked.
Merril’s Movie/TV/Book Club: We watched White Tiger (Netflix). It’s a movie that I’m definitely thinking about. Though it’s about caste and culture in India, it also makes some sly jabs about corrupt governments, class, and race elsewhere. We’ve all seen corruption and politics going hand-in-hand, and the idea that those at the top don’t even really see those who toil for them is part of the history of the U.S. The point is also made in Lupin, the highly bingeable French Netflix show that we just began. It’s also a bit sly, and a very entertaining look at a French “gentleman thief,” who is trying to solve a mystery involving his father.
I read Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell. It’s a fiction, highly speculative account of the Shakespeares’ marriage and the death of their son. Her language is stunningly beautiful and descriptive. Despite the sadness—yes, I cried—I was transported to this world. It’s a gorgeous book.
Fantastic post/poem. A apt descriptor of what many of us are feeling right now.
Yes, we’re still in a pandemic…and I still live in a state that still denies the deaths by focusing on ‘but just see all the ones infected who didn’t die’ (yep, local newscasters say that!) justifying its ever-since-the-beginning business as usual lifestyle.
The clouds look like quilted mattress pads to me – go figure!
I will look up Hamnet as you suggested and see if our local library has it – sounds very intriguing.
Thank you so much, Laura!
I was surprised, but I got Hamnet from my local library.
You stay safe, too. We’re still trying to figure out when, where, and how we might someday get our vaccines. 😀
Beautiful images and verses – a mood uplift! Thank you. I especially like those geese and clouds – wouldn’t it be great to fly on such a day?
Thank you so much! Yes, it would be quite wonderful. 😀
Oh my, your photographs are gorgeous. I love the windswept dawn! I haven’t had a chance to peek on Instagram yet.
Thank you so much, Jill. That photo was from last week. It’s hard to keep up with all the social media. Well, actually I don’t. 😏
Amazing skies as always. Several people have recommended Hamnet to me. I still am unable to read though. And lately unable to write much either. It’s a strange thing.
My younger daughter made some excellent challah several weeks ago, and she brought me some when we met at the farmer’s market. Cooking is a balm. (K)
That is a strange thing. I can’t imagine not reading.
Yes, cooking and sharing food are balms. I’m glad you got some of your daughter’s excellent challah!
really appreciate the love and joy in you poem … it is a new dawning and we can all sleep a bit deeper knowing that! Your photos are super stunning and I reckon I could smell your baking 🙂
Thanks for sharing your read and movies, they are on my to do list
Thank you so much, Kate. I appreciate your lovely comment!
What a fantastic poem, Merril! It flowed beautifully and was perfectly accompanied by your gorgeous photos.
Thank you so much, Dale! I’m pleased you enjoyed it. 😀
I always do!
A lightness of being. That was felt by so many of us on the 20th and on. But so much to do to make our country sing again. Thanks for the reviews, too, and stunning photos.
Thank you and you’re welcome, Pam!
Here’s to new beginnings.
Cautious optimism makes sense – such clarity in your photographs and verses
Thank you so much, Derrick!
You have the most beautiful dawns, and such beauty brings hope in its constancy. I marvel every time you post the photos taken on your walk. Yes, the lies belong with the swamp things to decompose out of sight. Your home must be so warm and comforting with the smell of that good food.
Thank you so much, Liz. The last few days have just been gray, but there was color at dawn again today. That apple cake certainly made the house smell good! 😀
You’re welcome, Merril. 🙂
Your verse and images are beautiful, full of hope. Thank you for sharing your beauty. And your film and book recommendations. 🙂
Thank you so much, Robin!
And you’re welcome. 😀