{"id":5447,"date":"2019-04-03T09:30:38","date_gmt":"2019-04-03T09:30:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/?p=5447"},"modified":"2019-04-06T05:28:37","modified_gmt":"2019-04-06T05:28:37","slug":"earth-calling-april","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/?p=5447","title":{"rendered":"Earth Calling April"},"content":{"rendered":"

I have a grandson born on April 22, Earth Day, and a granddaughter born April 26. In between, I celebrate the birth of William Shakespeare on April 23.<\/p>\n

For the lifetimes of my grandchildren, I wish \"Much Ado About Nothing,\" though portends suggest ado, fuss, trouble, bother, upset, agitation, commotion, stir, confusion, tumult, disturbance, uproar and furor aplenty about this precious planet.<\/p>\n

Other than writing comments to The New York Times<\/em> and asides here, I'm left to accept that my grandchildren's planetary future is not in my hands; yet I must still help those scurrying to change course as the climate changes. Of the latter, it \"ain't over yet.\" Not with Arctic drilling. Not with rigs in the Gulf of Mexico. Not with turbines powering windmills, no matter what \"they say.\"<\/p>\n

Thank you, Sierra Club<\/a>, Natural Resources Defense Fund<\/a>, and Audubon Society<\/a> to name a few.<\/p>\n

For this April, I share images of artwork by my late brother Ed Morrisey honoring earthlings of many ilk and poems meant to bring attention to the wonder I've experienced on our planet. Happy Earth Day!<\/p>\n

Mother Mine
\nCanaan Valley, WV
\nCirca 1980<\/h4>\n

I heard a benign soliloquy
\nfrom assertive Mother Earth
\nas busy waters scrubbed 
\nagainst a washboard ripple of
\nAppalachian stone.<\/p>\n

Her utterances never spent,
\nshe persisted with gravity
\nthrough sun-flecked woods alone,
\nscouring a glacial slope
\nin puddles, twists and turns.<\/p>\n

Bolder leaves fell in with her,
\ngliding to a stop at rocky pools.
\nHemlocks leaned as I did,
\ncallow fellows caught
\nand loath to stray.<\/p>\n

Winds nudged to hint
\nof a larger world,
\nyet nothing rose above
\nher liquid voice.<\/p>\n

An older woman,
\nassertive Mother Earth,
\nbent with grace
\nto her everyday chores.
\nA domestic in easy discourse.<\/p>\n

And we,
\nseedlings
\nof this rich estate,
\nwho would nestle
\nfor a last chill nap,
\ndaydreamed
\nupon a velvet lap,
\nand lingered.<\/p>\n

With Headset on Winter,
\nOne for the Birds
\nSt. Petersburg, FL
\nFebruary 1996<\/h4>\n

The cello swells,
\nHigh tide on Smacks Bayou.
\nPelicans \"carpe diem.\"
\nI dance in place.<\/p>\n

Appearing to sit serene,
\nwithin I twirl,
\nI leap with grace.
\nDove on a dock.
\nNearly fifty...
\nthat a shock.<\/p>\n

Paul Winter's music soars.
\nGulls in high time glide.
\nA flock of geese
\ntakes lettered form
\nand low-key ducks
\ntip wings upon the water.<\/p>\n

From afar I am a statue
\nin the sax and cello's wake.
\nBut I dance their jig to life.
\nFlight does not elude me.<\/p>\n

Within,
\nmy hair twirls round.
\nRuffles of a skirt
\nwill never cease.<\/p>\n

My heart beats
\nlike the hummingbird.
\nThe bored raven crows.
\nThe egret has my number.
\nOne with them,
\nI choose motion
\nover slumber.<\/p>\n

Training to be
\n\"an older\" woman,
\nmy foot taps.
\nI am still dancing.<\/p>\n

Rising
\nCedar Key, FL
\n2009<\/h4>\n

Cedar Key is the coast of nature.
\nYes, nature prevails.
\nThe tide rolls out
\nwhere mullets fly
\nand oysters rise in a
\nfield of puffy bar.<\/p>\n

A full-moon spring-tide takes
\nmore than a foot of water down.
\nThey say it takes an elephant gun
\nto down a braying air boat
\nas it thunders by.<\/p>\n

Even black mangroves spring up here.
\nLike olive trees with their green berets.
\nLike Rosewood blacks who fled
\nthe redneck terror of the Roaring Twenties.<\/p>\n

Cedar Key plays home to migrant snowbirds.
\nSome in condos \u2013 with binoculars.
\nSome high stepping through stressed bars.<\/p>\n

They dare not eat the oysters
\nfor the poison rising up
\ninside the earthen shells.<\/p>\n

To live and die by spring tides.
\nSlowly, the bar fades
\nand beds are made
\nas water rises.<\/p>\n

Slowly, the church bell tolls,
\nworn as the creaky dock
\nwhere big boats wait their day.<\/p>\n

As hogs rev their motors
\noutside Annie\u2019s Caf\u00e9,
\nsoon to cruise,
\nwe ready our canoes.<\/p>\n

Oh, Breath of Life
\nSt. Petersburg, FL
\nJune 21, 1996 <\/h4>\n

Oh, breath of life,
\nyou take our breath away.
\nTug the heart
\nwhile breaking night and day.
\nBlushing sky, hued parable afar.
\nStoried mounds of clouds
\nmask who we are.<\/p>\n

Tropic June, a moist beatitude,
\naddresses tree and blossom,
\nman and dove.
\nWhile palms hold sway,
\nmere humans swoon with love
\nfor arching rainbow,
\ncrystal dome above.<\/p>\n

Yes, atmosphere,
\nthe pressures rise and fall.
\nDrops descend in seas
\nupon a street. 
\nYour chemistry is simple,
\nair to water, back to air,
\nnearly all we crave
\nto be complete.<\/p>\n

Yet farther out,
\nwe circle round ourselves.
\nFending limits
\nnatural life proposes.
\nFarther one day
\nthree rings left behind,
\nwe aim for space where
\nwe can stick our noses.<\/p>\n

Audio Options<\/h4>\n

Click the links below to hear recordings of a poem about a lunar eclipse and an ode to Shakespeare.<\/p>\n

Eclipsed<\/a>          <\/p>\n

Happy Birthday, Bill Shakespeare<\/a><\/p>\n

Note<\/h4>\n

Visit the Home<\/a><\/strong> page to explore the rest of this site.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

 <\/p>\n

Artwork by Ed Morrisey<\/strong><\/p>\n

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I have a grandson born on April 22, Earth Day, and a granddaughter born April 26. In between, I celebrate the birth of William Shakespeare on April 23. For the lifetimes of my grandchildren, I wish “Much Ado About Nothing,” though portends suggest ado, fuss, trouble, bother, upset, agitation, commotion, stir, confusion, tumult, disturbance, uproar […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5447","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5447","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5447"}],"version-history":[{"count":84,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5447\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5632,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5447\/revisions\/5632"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5447"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5447"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reggiemorrisey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5447"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}