Author Archives: Margaret Dubay Mikus

Treasures from the Past

All my poems are originally handwritten in spiral notebooks. Last week I was looking through old writing notebooks and discovered many of the poems from 2000-2002 were not in the computer, the only place they can be useful. So I have begun, in the midst of all my other plans, to every day enter at least a few. It is like time travel. Entering a life so different from the one I have now, and yet recognizable. More naive in some ways, some of the same truths coming through. My children were teens and now they are grown. I wrote differently then. Most of the poems I will probably not do much more with, just for me to see. But I am compelled to have the complete set. I seems important for some reason to find something or see something for the life I am now leading. Already I have found poems I remembered and had searched for and not found, until now. And today this one, which I like a lot, a buried treasure.

2/20/00

Midnight at High Moon

A thought to go to my window
and watch as I used to.

Two deer came to feed
on seeds knocked down

by careless birds
now laying on the crust.

The deer came dark and slow
against deep white of snow,

the storm from days ago
that melted on top and refroze.

They scooped up the seeds,
and still as marble

watched and waited
for what in the moonlight?

A third form
from the other side of the fence

slowly trod one crunching step
after another.

The two stopped feeding
and went over

and slowly, with no deliberate speed,
with no apparent notice

of bare slender legs and bootless feet,
all three made their way west

toward the forest
and the western end of the fence,

sharp soot silhouettes
blending into charcoal shadow.

And all was bright and still
under the midnight high moon.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2000

Deer in Backyard (C) 2012 Margaret Dubay Mikus

Read an E-Book Week

2011 LGNB 95 smaller front coverD ebook for Smashwords FIVE STAR REVIEW:
“Margaret’s poems are always personal, yet universal, in that any sensitive reader will be able to identify with the thoughts they embody…lyrical…concise and still as elaborate as prose…. This particular anthology focuses on letting go of your children ‘when their hours are no longer woven into the fabric of your days.’ [She] not just gives voice to feelings that are often repressed, but sincerely seeks to heal. Above all this is a labor of love from a…loving mother, adorned with words from the heart and simple photographs that complement the words beautifully. I highly recommend this book…to all sensitive readers who are working on letting go in any way.”
–Pramod Uday, spiritual teacher from India

Yes, it’s time again to try something new. I am offering a deep discount of 75% off on my second book, Letting Go and New Beginnings: A Mother’s Poetic Journey. For the rest of this week only you can own it for only $1. Just enter code REW75 upon check out.

You can read this book on your computer, e-book readers (including Kindle and Nook), tablets, and smart phones. If you have color capacity you can view my photos in full color (or in b/w, if not). You can read a free sample before purchase. Thank you for your support!

My husband chose to read this poem at his mother’s memorial service as the “voice of the mother.”

2/24/08

After You Left

Constantly
I am watching out for you.
Even when I am not watching,
I am watching.

I cannot say why this is true
or when it began,
it feels like forever
my love.

So do me a great favor
and become…not less carefree
nor less careless,
nor even more careful,

for being full of care
is not it exactly.
Be more aware of your choices,
more in tune with your inner wisdom.

For you are wise
dear one.

And if I am selfish
and want you to stay with me
when it is clearly time to go,
forgive…

and go.
Call me when you arrive.
I will be waiting.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
Copyright 2008

For more of the story you might like: https://www.fullblooming.com/surprises-of-both-kinds/

Inspired by and for Corax

Virtual Choir (and Eric Whitacre) has inspired many poems. This is another. VC is a virtual community and a real one too. Many VC members have met in real life, but whether they meet or not they support and encourage each other. And that positive energy spills over into real life. We are all better for it. This poem was inspired by VC member, Corax, aka Jeff. I am grateful for the connection.

1/28/14

On Imperfection
For Corax

On the other side of darkness
the past looks far away,
and if I didn’t know better,
mostly forgotten.

Live in the now,
isn’t that what they say?
I agree mostly and also intend
to remember my lessons:

not to repeat same old mistakes,
not to let the unconscious pilot the course,
to remember to breathe,
to always be kind and

to forgive, every day forgive
imperfection. For here we learn
by being in form, subject to complex patterns
we cannot sense or anticipate.

If we were perfect—
which we are somewhere—
what would be the point of
choosing to go to Earth-school?

As long as we are here—
those numbered precious days,
those rare allotted minutes—
we have work to do.

Get on with it.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2014

To read all my Virtual Choir/ Eric Whitacre inspired poems

Evening with Eric Whitacre

10:30 last night I drove back home in the snow from an incredible event with Eric Whitacre. So far exceeded any unconscious expectations I might have had, I was flying. It’s hard to pin down exactly why we were so thoroughly buzzed after. Everything lined up so perfectly it was one of those rare times when I felt in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, entirely content.

To recap: The latest snow—in one of the snowiest winters ever—held off for the drive in. I did not get turned around in Evanston, (which happens to me often). Easy parking in a covered lot a block away. Welcomed by new Virtual Choir friends, Elisabeth (and Jonathan), Darrell (and Penna), and Lisa at The Celtic Knot Pub in Evanston, where the food was good and the company was awesome!

At the urging of Darrell Polka, I read the most recent of my Eric Whitacre-Virtual Choir inspired poems to the group (see below). We then walked over to the Alice Millar Chapel at Northwestern University just as the snow was beginning to accumulate. Lovely dusting and reasonably warm (for these days). Beautiful space. Got to hear Eric rehearsing the Apollo Chorus singing his piece, Lux Aurumque, a conducting master class. Transcendent! He talked us through some of his creative process with such humor and warmth. Excellent questions asked in the Q & A with such thoughtful, vulnerable, insightful answers. We even all got to sing a few bars of a piece he is working on and then hear Lux Aurumque in entirety. Just soaked right into me!

Then the meet and greet (maybe as many as 700 of us). Eric is one of those rare people who can captivate an audience and also fully connect with individuals. He focused on each of us in turn, gracious and generous. Responsive, receiving, and…well, genuine. His energy and enthusiasm is just so contagious! I delivered the three poems to him, got a CD signed and photos taken (by Jonathan). Talked a minute or so and some whirlwind hugs. Floating…

When I first heard about Eric Whitacre coming nearby, I was recovering from major abdominal surgery and felt too vulnerable to go out on my own, certainly not drive and walk out in the slippery snow! Even though I wanted to meet my local Virtual Choir friends in real life, I didn’t plan on going. At some point, I decided to stop thinking about whether to go or not and just see if it all came together. Get out of my own way. I emailed for a ticket and that was good. Emailed the restaurant and they got back to me in an hour (yes, they had a gluten-free menu, very accommodating). And that was good. Parking was nearby. That was good. The weather was manageable and most of all I recovered. Walking the few minutes, even in snow was a piece of cake. That was good. Reassuring. As I said to Elisabeth, it all worked out. My job was to let it. Have you ever had that experience when you let go and allowed your life to come together?

Here are the poems, part of the ongoing collection inspired by Eric Whitacre and Virtual Choir.

8/28/13

Eric Whitacre: Godzilla Eats Las Vegas
(with Elvises)

There is music
takes itself so serious
and then

there is music
without a serious bone
that can sink in

to the dark places
and lighten
lift out of

and up
soaring without risk
of falling back.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2013

8/28/13

Cracked Open After Louise Penny

While listening to Arvo Pärt Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten,
Proms, 2010 on YouTube—posted by Eric Whitacre on Facebook

Not about fixing
the irreparably broken
but creating

the newborn form
to take its place
in memoriam,

to allow, not push or defend
deliberate shoots that spring up
through soil

even if not particularly fertile,
and shoots can grow
into something novel

and bloom someday
into something as yet
merely envisioned…

almost.
To take the risk
as if…

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2013

10/2/13

Subset of Virtual Choir
Glow

Why
spend precious hours
on a seasonal short song

to sing into a camera and send?
Naked it feels
to risk a public

miscalculation
of being less than…
perfection.

The charismatic man
behind the tune
calling for the tribe,

offering a vision,
a chance to gather
even in competition

some, not all, will win. Why?
To open the door and get inside,
sync with the rhythm,

learn music from intent repetition
and deliver the song
to the green dot and beyond.

Why, again why?
Because to live
is to risk, is to stretch

is to grow, is to know
possibility of
contentment within

even virtual achievement.
To be connected,
not alone, to belong

through trials, through song
Innate in the genes, to be together,
though apparently separate.

For the inspiration,
follow the inclination,
why do anything,

hit a ball with a bat,
throw or jump or run,
pull a bow across strings,

stroke a key or blow into a tube,
riff on a guitar or beat a drum
is to express being…human

being with virtual friends.

My Tribute to Pete Seeger

My family lived in a working-class suburb of Detroit. Mom took care of us (eventually seven kids) and also worked sometimes as a registered nurse. Dad worked in the same factory all his life, mostly midnight shift. He was a card-carrying union man. Our house was originally a two-bedroom bungalow and my Dad partially finished the attic into two more bedrooms (but still only one bathroom). We all had chores and were expected to pitch in. We always had food, shelter, and clothes and did not consider ourselves poor, but hard-working, not many frills, as were most of the people we knew.

I grew up in the 1950’s and 60’s, a singer in church choir and Catholic school chorus. I never met Pete Seeger, nor saw him perform in person, but I was deeply shaped by the Folk Revival he helped spearhead and by his songs. We moved across town in 1965 for us to attend the new Bishop Gallagher High School. Around that time were the Detroit riots and the protest movements were catching fire: against the Vietnam war, against segregation, for peace and equality of race and sex. I sang in the Folk Mass group at church and at some point I learned If I Had a Hammer, Where Have All the Flowers Gone, Turn, Turn, Turn, etc. The music just soaked right into me, in part shaping the clay of who I was becoming.

Shore Rocks in Calm Water MDMikus Copyright 2013

Since his death this week I’ve read so many stories posted online of those who knew Pete Seeger and are saddened by his loss. I too wanted to say something about his effect on my life and this poem/song came to me. A unique process from my other writing, and the music still has to be worked out (easy to sing along). But here is the poem/lyrics, my attempt to “catch something of the man.”

1/28/14

My Own Tribute
Pete Seeger, 1919-2014

Although Pete Seeger
traveled here and there,
now he is everywhere.

Though there are those
who would make him saint (or sinner)
he doesn’t care, if he ever did,

for he knows best what we all know
how the days are numbered rare,
now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

Not up on a pedestal I’m sure he’d say,
he was an honest man with a mission,
not down in the gutter either, nor scared,
now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

Singing in his confident voice
inviting us to sing along,
songs that we all know and share,
now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

Not in charge of anything big,
working day to day for the voiceless ones,
a determined “ordinary” man who cared,
now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

All the stories of something kind he said,
from everyone who met him or wished they did,
but when Toshi died last year, he died a bit I swear,
now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

His energy released from form now joins us,
not buried in the ground nor ashes spread,
not in some fancy world “up there,”
now Pete Seeger is everywhere…

singing, playing, chopping wood,
encouraging, traveling, doing good,
planting seeds, making a better place,
playing banjo, eye to eye, face to face,
exhorting us to care, I swear

now Pete Seeger is everywhere.

Update: A few days later I emailed the poem to Rich Warren, who is the host of Folkstage (and The Midnight Special) on WFMT, where Stephen and I are members. I knew Rich would be working on his radio tribute to Pete Seeger and thought he might like it. He said I could read my poem to the audience before Folkstage went on the air. It took me only minutes to agree. In the “spirit of Pete,” the group said the repeating line with me. It was awesome! Thanks, Rich, for the opportunity!

Me at WFMT-- Photo by Stephen Mikus, Copyright 2014

Update: Finally, a video of my reading this poem.

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