Monthly Archives: September 2015

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Friends

WHO is it that does the simple things of everyday life

that become the HUGE things in your everyday strife?

WHO is it that takes the time to sit with you for lunch

when they might have to listen to boring words at brunch?

WHO is it that walks along to the mundane place of Home Depot

when you have to order a water heater for your old chateau?

WHO is it that tells you that you are sane

when all around you becomes a difficult refrain?

WHO  is that carries such honest charm

And willingly lends a restful arm?

WHO is it that listens so patiently to all you say

When you are ready to call it a day?

WHO is it that is so giving and true

why, of course, it is a FRIEND like YOU!

 

Black-eyed Susan Perennial Garden; Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann; August, 2015, Palmyra, WI.

Black-eyed Susan Perennial Garden; Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann; August, 2015, Palmyra, WI.

thank you, Friend…YOU know who you are!

 

 

 

 

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Tanka #5: the Hunted Mourning Dove

"Wisconsin Mourning Dove" Photo Credit: c. Judy Mayer, September, 2015 USED WITH PERMISSION

“Wisconsin Mourning Dove” Photo Credit: c. Judy Mayer, September, 2015 USED WITH PERMISSION

the plaintive silence–

the mourning dove’s anguished cry

as the hunter stooped

to pick its prey from the dirt–

for two were dismissed that day

 

 

http://www.wisconsinbirdsounds.com/mourning_dove.php

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Related Information on the MOURNING DOVE:

http://www.wisconsinbirdsounds.com/mourning_dove.php

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLaO2rZzWlQ Mourning Dove Something to Coo About 4 23 2014

http://dnr.wi.gov/topic/WildlifeHabitat/documents/dove.pdf    Another irony–In this article, the DNR writes: “…The mourning dove population in Wisconsin can sustain hunting without limiting the population”, and then further on in the same article writes: “…MORTALITY: “…The natural mortality rate for mourning doves is high; approximately 6 out of 10 birds do not survive from one year to the next. Research indicates that mourning dove mortality is caused by a variety of factors including predators, disease, accidents, hunting, and weather extremes. ”

http://news.minnesota.publicradio.org/features/2003/09/02_tundeln_dovehunt/

St. Paul, Minn. — Wisconsin finally opened its mourning dove hunting season Monday, for the first time since 1918.The season was first approved two years ago by the state Natural Resources Board., But animal protection groups successfully sued to stop the hunt, and ended up delaying it for two years.  An appeals court overturned that ruling earlier this year, allowing the hunting season to begin. That decision has also been appealed, but neither the Wisconsin Supreme Court nor Gov. Jim Doyle stepped in to delay the start of the 60-day hunt this fall.     The Wisconsin Legislature took the mourning dove off the list of game species when it named the bird the state symbol of peace in 1971. That designation was made at the urging of animal rights activists.

MY REACTION:

I find it so ironic that we would hunt our state Symbol of Peace, as the Mourning Dove was so named in 1971. I have lived in this particular countryside subdivision since 1986 and it is now 2015. The change in law permitting the shooting of this bird took place in 2003. Prior to the hunting permission, I could hear the cooing of the doves each morning, from one end of the subdivision to the other–now–their song has disappeared! I feared the worst when the law was changed, and, unfortunately, the hunt has killed their song. Even though we have people in this subdivision, the gun’s voice could be heard …only the pop not the coo! Now we have a countryside devoid of the mourning dove and its song!

 

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So…what price are you paying for little things that keep you away from living?

I read an entry from the blog of Dace, pronounced “Dotsay,” who is from Latvia and who now lives in Canada.

http://mywaytotruth.wordpress.com/2011/08/05/price-you-do-not-have-to-pay/

At the end of her particular posting, she posted the question, “So, what price are you paying for little things that keep you away from living?” That question is the impetus for what I have written in this particular posting.

 

So…what price are YOU

paying for little things

that keep you away from living?

Is it grief that you feel?

Is it familiarity with the broken reel?

Is it the judgment you fear?

Is it the control you hold near?

Is it the envy of others’ success?

Is it jealousy of someone’s best?

Is it fear of the unknown?

Is it you might stand alone?

Is it fear of losing love?

Is it because there is no shove?

Is it the exposure you do fear?

Is it the fear of no one near?

Is it fear of being alone?

Is it because there’s no to the phone?

Is it stepping out of your cocoon?

Is it once again, shooting for the moon?

 

"Adventurous Delight" Photo Credit: c. Jane H. Johann. August, 2015. Palmyra, countryside, WI

“Adventurous Delight” Photo Credit: c. Jane H. Johann. August, 2015. Palmyra, countryside, WI

 

   Gather your wits about

   Embrace your feelings

   Let your emotions shout

  Then move forward, forget your doubts

  Move ahead and love again

  Enjoy the moments that you spend

 

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Tanka #3: the napping bumblebee

quiet morning walk

brought the flowers into sight

petalled pillow-soft

found a napping bumblebee

sleeping gently in the light

"Napping Bumblebee" Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann c.September 11, 2015. Palmyra Countryside, WI

“Napping Bumblebee” Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann c.September 11, 2015. Palmyra Countryside, WI

 

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RELATED INFORMATION:
tan·ka1
[ˈtäNGkə]  NOUN
  1. a Japanese poem consisting of five lines, the first and third of which have five syllables and the other seven, making 31 syllables in all and giving a complete picture of an event or mood.
Powered by Oxford Dictionaries · © Oxford University Press
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winged promise…for my daughter, Lara, on her birthday

"Clouds of Flight" Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann, near Palmyra, WI. Sept. 12, 2015

“Clouds of Flight” Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann, near Palmyra, WI. Sept. 12, 2015

the wind carried the tamarind seed

far into the hills

the elusive butterfly

winged its way into the blue

looking ahead with promise

for the future

no regret for the past

 

 

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Tanka #2: sometimes you can just hear the grass drinking the rain in…

"Spiderwort Countryside"near Palmyra, WI Photo Credit: Jane. H. Johann, Aug., 2015.

“Spiderwort Countryside”near Palmyra, WI
Photo Credit: Jane. H. Johann, Aug., 2015.

sometimes you can hear

the grass drinking the rain in

quenching its long thirst

after a bitter long drought

again, vibrant with life’s hope

 

 

 

 

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RELATED INFORMATION:
tan·ka1
[ˈtäNGkə]  NOUN
  1. a Japanese poem consisting of five lines, the first and third of which have five syllables and the other seven, making 31 syllables in all and giving a complete picture of an event or mood.
Powered by Oxford Dictionaries · © Oxford University Press
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Tanka #1: Perseverance

"Lady's Mantle" Photo Credit: Bobbi; 2014

“Lady’s Mantle”
Photo Credit: Bobbi; 2014

 

even under tears 

there is beauty pushing forth

pulsating courage

clinging to enduring hope

that life’s spirit will rebloom

RELATED INFORMATION:
tan·ka1
[ˈtäNGkə]  NOUN
  1. a Japanese poem consisting of five lines, the first and third of which have five syllables and the other seven, making 31 syllables in all and giving a complete picture of an event or mood.
Powered by Oxford Dictionaries · © Oxford University Press
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Deepest Secret of Life

“The deepest secret is that life is not a process of discovery,

but a process of creation. You are not discovering yourself,

but creating yourself anew.

Seek, therefore, not to find out Who You Are,

seek to determine Who You Want to be.”

—  Neal Walsch

     Creation is an intricate part of who we are each day we are alive. Each moment brings to us another option of choice…to forge ahead and to choose LIFE.  There are days when our confidence gets shaken…we forget we are part of something greater than ourselves — we each need the other —  make no mistake of how one person can make all the difference! That person may be YOU!

   Some days are very difficult and the days seem weary and long.  I look at the clock and it reads 9:00 A.M. and I am thinking to myself, “It should be noon!” And I am praying for it to be noon, because the time is dragging and I cannot bear another moment of being alone in this empty house. I feel stuck in a rut. I do not know how to create…how to BE…how to BECOME.  I am thinking, “What purpose do I have?”  The “empty nest” syndrome has struck! I am seeking purpose and feel a need to reconnect to the Greater Good. I am lost in my aloneness and isolation.

  Then appears the call of LIFE…to continue to respond…to continue to say YES…to continue to create…to move forward…away from self towards others. I just visited  the beautiful blog  photos of Clanmother (http://celebrationart.blogspot.com/2015/09/240365-happiness.html)  and one of the quotes she used was from Anne Frank,  “Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.”

   Social isolation is horrible and it seems very difficult to bear in the countryside, surrounded by cornfields–regardless of the beauty of nature–the human voice gives the affirmation that you are there–that another recognizes your existence–that you matter.
    When I was 18, I went to work in the local nursing home and I remained working there for six years, during every weekend and holiday and summer vacation, as I studied my way through the university. I worked on the ward with people who suffered from dementia or mental illness.  I remember going into the nursing homes each morning, and looking at thirty or more sad faces, with no expression. Same routine everyday. Those who could, would march down the lifeless hall, that was painted gray, and enter the day room. They would each migrate towards a certain chair—each person had deemed their spot and though there was no direction given by anyone, inevitably they would sit themselves in the same chair.
      They always ate in silence. Whatever was on their tray, they ate. One day, as I was lifting the trays out of the huge stainless steel wheeled compartment, a food tray slipped from my hands! Bam! What a thunderous clatter! Food on the floor everywhere! It was the best thing that ever happened in that day room! Everyone began to laugh! Everyone! They were howling in laughter! I had never experienced any other emotion out of them in all the six years of working there, except doldrums and silence. I dare say, I should have dropped a tray once a day!
      There was one elderly lady, Myrtle, who independently had paired herself up with a younger patient, who could not speak, Joan. Joan was “adopted” by Myrtle as her daughter. She would help her with her food each morning and noon, and I presume the evening meal as well.  Throughout the day, they followed one another up and down the hall. Myrtle walking beside Joan and they would laugh and talk in a language all their own.  So even though Myrtle did not speak any English that I knew, she would understand our directives and also assist to help Joan.
       Myrtle must have been in her 50’s and Joan in her 30’s. They were the only two who had such a good relationship. I am sure Myrtle took Joan under her wing as her own daughter. They provided happiness for each other. They provided relationship. I was very shy when I began working there and did what I was told. But in my heart, I felt so torn that these people had no one. At Christmastime, I took my money, and I bought each patient a little gift and gave it to them. None of these people ever had visitors.  I am sure because of the mental illness stigma, they were abandoned. I heard this recently from somewhere, “Even crazy people like to be invited!” Then my mind flashed back to those days, and sometimes to my own existence, as crazy as I am, and how painful it is “to be left out” because I am different.  How empty and sad were the lives of these people, because they were “left out” of society. Their own families forgot them.  What is worse than to be forgotten?
         Back in those days, they did not do group recreation or have things for these people to do. Everyone just sat in the day room staring–that is, except for Myrtle and Joan. Then one day, Joan became sick. Myrtle came running for us, screaming, “Schma schma!” Her own language and we followed. Joan died. I think from pneumonia, but I do not really know. Dear Myrtle was so lost and her cries could be heard for days throughout the hall. Mrytle let out her emotions and her pain. I think that is truly lacking in our society. It was so devastating for her. Her tears were many. Neither of these people had ever had visitors in the six years that I was employed. Soon Myrtle had given up and was dying. Two beautiful people who loved each other, and could not survive without the other.
    I think that is how important each person is to the other in this life. We either choose to bring life to the other, or we let some materialistic obstacle or hidden reason, regret or grudge, arrogance or  social sophistication, or class distinction (and that does exist in every society), anger or resentment, unforgiving attitude  get in our  way and we lose sight of the bigger picture. We forget that diversity brings richness!  Relationship is a calling out of ourselves to go towards the other — to forget ourselves –to go forward and bring others into life–to co-create.