Praying Mantis

The other evening, I took my husband out in the back yard, to the balsam growing three feet high by the fence, to see both the praying mantis and the hummingbird moth. The mantis, with natural camouflage that makes it look like leaves and stems, also has an abdomen that resembles the seedpods of balsam, also known as touch-me-not because these seedpods explode at a light touch!

The praying mantis was out eating baby crickets, no doubt. The hummingbird moth was exploring the nectar of the pink and pale pink blossoms. We were in twilight, and darkness settled around us, inside the awe, an expansive, opening state of mind. Then, because there were things to be done, we went inside and did them.

I've been reading After the Ecstasy, the Laundry, by Jack Kornfield, subtitled How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path. I'm glad to be on a spiritual path, however meandering, and glad to know I'm not alone in 1) wishing the ecstasy could last and 2) needing to do the relentless laundry.

Balsam is a variety of impatiens (aka impatience), and I cannot be impatient with myself, waiting for my heart to grow wise. Sigh...

The hummingbird moth, or Hemaris, a kind of sphinx moth, has that nickname because it is, and looks like, a moth, when its wings are still, and, with its wings beating, looks like a hummingbird. In Britain and Europe, a similar moth is called the Hummingbird Hawk-moth, or Hummingmoth (love that!). I'm going to ponder the twilight confusion of the hummingbird moth and the ecstasy of warm, fresh laundry, and how good it feels to fold the clothes and deposit them in the rooms of the ones who wear them.

Here are the furiously beating wings of the humming-moth, in a photo by IronChris. Reminds me of myself, spinning my wheels in search of sweetness. Getting nowhere, but ecstatic, aloft, and up close to beauty. And, like a cartoon coyote, about to fall into the ravine...while the roadrunner, as always, gets away!

Cranky Gratitude

I don't have many Cranky Doodle Days anymore, in the blog or elsewhere, and I am grateful for this, you can bet! But yesterday my computer monitor screen kept going black, and it did it again twice this morning, and I was briefly sucked into the black hole of worry. I ran a scan, etc., and, well, here I am, though, so far, I have failed to post my usual "Poetry Wednesday" feature or blog post over at Escape Into Life. (I guess I fear it might escape into the black hole of the Internet, so I am cautious.)

Oh, now I have a pink warning here at blogger.com...IS MY MACHINE ABOUT TO EXPLODE?

Anyhoo, fall print journals are arriving in the mail:

Nimrod, with Susan Elbe, Michael Hettich, and other fine poets, writers, and artists in it!
Slipstream, the Cars, Bars, & Stars issue (with me in it! "Cassandra Retakes the Driver's Exam")

& Ekphrasis (also with me in it, responding to Interrupted Reading, by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot)

So I am happy, grateful, and a little on edge.

Plus, there is a cranky picture of me in the paper, as Georgina Trotter, saying something like, "Oh, for heaven's sake, one can't do everything, can one?" (See cemetery walk in Events on right.)

Letters to the World

As fall begins with a chill, the furnace comes on in our house. (My tropical husband is sensitive to the cold.) I've slowed down in the blog, result of a busy summer preparing for a busy fall: some upcoming performances (of a historical nature), a trip to Ohio to help prepare a dance/theatre performance, etc. But as my life and mind scatter, I am also all the more open to synchronicity--some marvelous nonlinear random coincidii too hard to explain--and my heart fills with awe.

So what I'll remark on today is the coincidence that the summer issue of Poemeleon, its Epistolary issue, has come out on the Autumnal Equinox, as mentioned by editor Cati Porter in her letter to her readers on the Table of Contents page. This page will link you to all sorts of wonders, and I have much to read (and have barely got going on the new issue of storySouth! Ah, the busy fall reading starts with a bang!)

I have two poems in the issue, one that resulted from writing some Amnesty International letters with blogger and real life friend, Kim, and from haphazardly planting a cantaloupe in my back yard (it blossomed and twined! but bore no fruit), and one inspired by mutual disappointment and fireworks (and Jiminy Cricket!).

I love the coincidence that my statement above the poems mentions the annual cemetery walk, about to begin at Evergreen Cemetery in Bloomington, Illinois (check Events, at right), and if this issue had come out in the summer, as planned, rather than the fall equinox, as happened, the connection would not have been so pertinent as it is now. Synchronicity.

Isn't it cool that a "poemeleon" is a poem + a chameleon and can resemble anything it needs to resemble, as a poem can resemble a letter, and vice versa. Oh, Emily Dickinson!: "This is my letter to the world..."

Thanks to Wikipedia for the shareable chameleons--the green one (coincidentally female), by Chiswick Chap, and the Madagascar chameleon, above, by Bernard Gagnon. Thanks to Emily Dickinson for the coincidence of her eyes.

These People

It's Thor's Day in the blog, the day that, if I had a hammer, I'd hammer out protest songs in the morning, etc., all over this land. I'd sing out, "Justice!" I'd sing out, "Listen!" I'd sing out, well, yes, "Love between my brothers and my sisters....!" Thank you, Pete Seeger and Lee Hays.

And thank you to these people, who represent the 47% that Mitt Romney said he doesn't care about*, who are writing letters to him over at the We Represent the 47 Percent blog. And thanks to Juliana Baggott, who started it. And if you'd like to write a letter and submit it, you can, too!

*"those people"

And/or, take up your own hammer, banjo, or blog, and say or do whatever you need to say or do. "We're all in this together."

And, if you are at a new address, or newly able to vote, remember to register before October 9 to be able to vote on November 6.

(And find out if you are going to need a photo ID at the voting booth! Sigh....)

Heron Tree

Probably some of you have seen a tree full of herons. I saw one once in a wetlands area on the way to an away volleyball tournament. Wooee, I can already tell it's a Random Coinciday in the blog, as well as a Fat Tuesday of yummy news, mainly about Heron Tree, a new poetry journal.

Thanks to Chris Harshaw for the grey heron!

The editors of Heron Tree are Sandy Longhorn, Chris Campolo, and Rebecca Resinski.  Sandy Longhorn is a poet I met in the blogosphere, featured at Escape Into Life, and then got to meet in person at the AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs) Conference in Chicago this year! She blogs at Myself the Only Kangaroo Among the Beauty, an Emily Dickinson-ism!

If you are a poet, you will want to submit work, according to the Heron Tree guidelines, between now and December 1st!

It's often good to send early in a reading period, and early in the life of a journal, so hop to it (as the Kangaroo might say!)!

Thanks to Fir0002/Flagstaffotos for the Kangaroo and Joey!

And thanks to Wikipedia, as always, and in general, for info on the heron, Heron (or Hero) of Alexandria, and the apricots, chosen for their yumminess and because Heron Tree uses the Apricot theme at their website. (I told you it was a Random Coinciday!) "Heron of Alexandria?" you may be asking. "Who's he?"

He's the inventor of the steam engine, the windmill, and the syringe! Plus, this impressive geometrical equation, known as Heron's formula!