10/27/20
Inspired by an incredibly talented woman
(from Wei’s post)
Quietly watching
the light come back
into the world
In midst of these times
patient
if not trusting
willing to wait and see
before jumping headlong
into the dark uncertainty
Find some ground
plant feet firmly
You are that ground
for me
And you out there
are the ground for somebody
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2020
An offering from my poetic journal.
November Sunset, M D Mikus, Copyright 2018
For a dear friend (and me)
To let yourself
be yourself
even encourage those aspects
that have been hidden
to come into the sun
even those facets you thought
you could reveal to no one.
To baptize the whole
with kindness
that is enough
you are enough
on your chosen journey
of loving acceptance.
Be gentle and kind to you as if
you were someone else.
Remember you cannot give
from your essence
depleting your core strength
but only from your excess.
So practice just this one thing:
self-kindness
to build the reserves
from which you can draw
in service.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2014
This poem ends my book, Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing. It has been popping into my head for a week, so here it is. For me to remember…and maybe you too?
THROWN AGAIN into the FRAZZLE MACHINE: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing
7/24/17
On the good days
what comes between here and there
the before and after, now and then
the necessary transition
the clarifying calm after the storm
the personal and the political
is messy but manageable
On the bad days
fear overrides all good instinct
kindness mistaken for weakness
brute control at any cost, manipulation
mistaken for power and yet…
even here in abject darkness
a sliver of light, or a crack
that lets light in or a smidgeon of hope
What kind of question opens the door
to the path, not laid out in advance
but created new under each separate footfall?
Why tell you this—or ask you
to consider not losing hope, not despairing?
We are each a dot in a context
a deliberate point in a pointillist painting
It is the context, the perspective
I offer for consideration
And we are each a universe entire
autonomous yet connected in a web
of strands seen by some, felt by others
maybe you are one, if what you once knew
when you came here has not been pounded down
If you can still recognize what is true:
We were made for these times
To remember, hold to beauty, inspire
Not as in human cold marble statues
of superficial shallow perfection
but embodied spirits, warmly human
unwitting gods of creation, fragile and powerful
at least a bit willing.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2017
In looking for something else, I found this poem and realized I had not heard from my friend, Geary, in quite a while, since we had met for dinner at a favorite Thai restaurant. I realized I had not sent him the poem that came out of our conversation. I decided to email it to him to check and see if he was ok. He got back to me right away and had quite a story to tell. As he said, once again our lives were in parallel. Here is this poem for you too. What has inspired you lately?
Chicago Roof with Pigeon, by Margaret Dubay Mikus, Copyright 2012
How will we participate in creating the new world that is becoming, all of us contributing something? What I want to know is: what will inspire the best in us, the most kindness and compassion? How do we keep going in times of trouble and not sink, exhausted, into despair? What will you make from what you have been given, your unique perspective and vision?
On Facebook, in September, singer / songwriter/ performer / artist, Joe Crookston, posted a new video of how he had created a new song from the words of a tired old song (“Wagon Wheel”). I like the metaphor of this process. Watch the video here.
And that inspired me to write this:
9/16/19
Inspired by Joe Crookston
Take what doesn’t work—
are you listening—
chop it up, not even all
that compulsively straight
But use it all to create
something else
use it all according to
rules you made up yourself
I like the new song
I like the metaphor
I like the process
the cutting , the choices, the paste
I like the melody, the voice
the instruments, the video of all of it
the hope, the inspiration
the conscious letting go of outcome
I like the decision to share
to include, to invite in. And
in joyful wonder at the birth of a new song
I soaked it in and sang along
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2019
Writing this new poem reminded me of resonant lines from an earlier poem:
“uses the bricks from the wall
to make something else altogether.”
Here is that poem:
2/25/03
I am my mother’s daughter
and I am the Mother of my Self—
one who made the form
and one who filled it.
And I am the mother of my daughter,
a beauty like no other.
She forgot to wash her socks until midnight and,
smiling her smile, asked if I could put them
in the dryer and I did…easily…again.
Who rules on any given day?
What boundaries between the roles I play
tying me to sanity?
No instructions, no models or even myths.
In all the worlds there ever were,
no one has ever been exactly like me…or you.
Or has done what we are about to attempt.
I am tempted to stop, not life, but struggle
to be more, to become what I imagine.
But a poet who is fearless,
who carries on regardless,
whose words are kind and true and honest
is more than essential for survival…
is the compassionate and dispassionate glue
that holds it all together,
or later after the fall,
uses the bricks from the wall
to make something else altogether.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2003
This poem was published in several places, including in my book, Letting Go and New Beginnings: A Mother’s Poetic Journey. I also read it on my CD, Full Blooming. Listen here.
August Monarch, Margaret Dubay Mikus, Copyright 2007
While searching for my poems that were inspired by singer/songwriter, John Flynn, I found this second one (included in my book, Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine.) It was from a Facebook post on the day of Nelson Mandela’s death. Reading it now reminds me of John urging us at the concert last night: to be more kind, to do something to help lift someone up. Thank you, John, for all of it.
12/8/13
Posted by John Flynn on Facebook:
“I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint
as a sinner who keeps on trying.”
Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)
He might be the first to say
he was ordinary,
a man making choices with great clarity,
understanding consequences
to holding hate and anger close,
how one gets burned
and nothing is accomplished.
To say now he was awe-inspiring,
to raise him so high in sainthood,
select media-glorifying snippets to focus on,
reducing him to an icon on a pedestal
does him and us a disservice
for it assumes we cannot also be better,
do better, make the forgiving choices.
It assumes he was a hero above us, beyond us,
a mythological figure, not flesh and bone.
It says we admire from afar but do not aspire
to be something held so high…
and that is wrong.
We are all capable of better,
more conscious loving acts.
We are all awesome healers
no matter our circumstance.
We do not have to reflexively perpetuate
old patterns that do not serve us.
We can heal within and radiate healing out.
Start now, start somewhere,
some small breach, maybe love yourself
a little or a little more today
as a way of remembering him,
honoring a long life of sacrifice
and ultimate joy—as a choice.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2013
To hear this poem and read more about it
For my first John Flynn-inspired poem: read here
Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine:
Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing