Heart Happy (cathy_edgett) wrote,
Heart Happy
cathy_edgett

My Morning Poem -



I might have just said my morning jumble, but here it is in an attempt of a poem.


September 4, 2007

 

When you speak, I see a lake,

with a v-shaped wake as you motor slowly

to town for a book,

read aloud,

The Worst Hard Times,

written about the dust bowl,

the worst natural disaster in human recollection,

created by ignorance and neglect,

ripping out

the roots of the grasslands,

150 feet down holding the soil.

We ignore our own need for roots in motion,

like the tides, moon, sea.

We cage people in one spot,

transit in a car

to another spot

the radio blaring non-sense.

 

Colin Turnbull, an anthropologist,

writes of The Mountain People,

hunters and gatherers, men and women equal

with each other and the mountain.

They traveled in a constant adjustment

of needs and roles,

until placed and stopped,

the rock of hatred formed and is tossed.

  

Love needs movement, flow.

 

The New York Times this morning reports that,

“The number of American children and adolescents

treated for bipolar disorder increased 40-fold from 1994 to 2003.”

Who knows the numbers now in 2007, but in 2003,

we treated 1 percent of the population under age 20,

with extremely expensive drugs, while supposedly fighting

“a war on drugs.”  Drug company profits soar,

while the land

asks for the comfort

of feet. 

 

A walk is free,

a walk to connect

the rhythm

of tides, moon, and sea.

 

Our children need the wind,

movement that floats

up

and down.

 

A magic carpet is ours.

 

Root in the stars

that surround

this round

spinning

ground.     

 

 

 

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