Category Archives: people

Inspired by Tom Prasada-Rao–One More Poem

Tom Prasada-Rao, a lovely singer-songwirter and generous person, gracefully passed on a few days ago after years of cancer treatment. He made the most of his time here and was an influence on those who connected with his music and all of those he worked with. He also inspired through who he was and how he handled his cancer treatment, including me. I have loved his music for years and followed his journey to the end, with so many friends and family visiting, posting photos on Facebook for all to see. This is how you can graciously leave life here, heading into the next chapter. This is one of the poems he inspired. See link at the end for three more.

8/29/19

Face Reanimation Surgery
Tom P-R

A certain acceptance
of how things are
where you have landed
and taking another step
to where you are going
trusting information that
made its way to you
and trusting your intuition
always the future unknown
How much is envisioning
exposing a divine plan?
You wait and heal
and do what you can
All the while, on the good days
patient and loving
no matter the outcome
short or long term
What was taken, restored
not a promise guaranteed
hope, then
grist for imagination
and healing co-creation

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2019

From my upcoming collection, Rippling Out from Folkstage

Inspired by Tom Prasada-Rao

 

Remembering Susi Roos

In 1993 Susi was recommended to me as a massage therapist to help me cope with multiple sclerosis. She incorporated energy balancing with our sessions, which was new to me. With her help, and other healing professionals. I healed from MS in 1995. As a result, I had a creative re- awakening and began a poetic journal to sing from the Heart. Susi and I continued working on healing through diagnosis, treatment, and recovery from breast cancer. She was a mentor, a partner in healing, a teacher, a student, an inspiration, a supportive friend, a fellow writer, and a colleague.

Snippets that came to mind after her passing (June 26, 2023):

–Susi introduced me to the concept of inner listening (re-connecting with Spirit), even giving me “homework” from our healing sessions to do a quiet time every day to allow listening.

–She introduced me to Rev. Ron Roth and drove us down to Starved Rock for more than one Healing Service.

–She heard about Reiki classes with Bill Farber and arranged for us to go.

–She slowly added energy balancing to our early massage sessions, leading me to Energetic Life Balancing and workshops with Robert Walden? and his wife, Betty Lou Lieber? (I still do some of the daily ELB sheet, every day).

–She had a Spirit Circle gathering once a month and I met Geary Davis there. One time, when Susi was away, we conducted the Spirit Circle. Geary became a dear friend and my acupuncturist.

–Susi had the idea of writing the second set of verses of my song, “Prayer of Lovingkindness,” in present tense, which I sang at the opening or anniversary celebration of Infinity Foundation, and many other places. It is on my CD, Full Blooming.

–Susi was the reason I went to the Cancer Treatment Center after my second round of breast cancer, 11 years after the first, (I did not end up staying there) where I met Katherine Puckett, who I now know through folk music and Facebook, a small world.

–Susi was a great supporter of my writing. Sometimes I would read new poems to her as part of our sessions. When she was at the Healing Center in Glenview? she sold my cards and books at the store there.

******

From my first book, As Easy as Breathing: Reclaiming Power for Healing and Transformation, Poems, Letters, and Inner Listening:

In Gratitude

Many people answered my call for help, some whose names I never knew. Although I cannot thank each of them individually, I am most grateful for their timely presence in my life. Special thanks to my medical team, particularly Noreen Kelly, Cathy Lanigan, Steven Bines, Janet Wolter and Michelle Goodman. Your warm support, kindness, and listening made all the difference. I would also like to acknowledge the following people. Warm hugs of gratitude to Susi Roos, who was my partner in the healing dance and who guided me toward inner listening, and to Barbara Racioppo, who made a safe and loving space for me to consider and risk healing. I am grateful to Ron Roth for being his loving, healing self and for laying out the choice: whether “to become bitter or better.” His support meant a great deal to me. Following treatment, Fran Rubens helped me to revive and restore, stimulating me to grow on all levels. Thank you. Thanks to Tricia Higgins for her gift of sight, great hands, open heart and willingness to read my early manuscript.

Kip Snyder helped me recover and trust in my true voice. Without his unconditional support I would not have risked sending such personal work out into the world. He also gave me the idea for “Bird Poop.” Thank you so much. I am most grateful for the detailed comments and encouragement of Chris Belz. His words buoyed me up in difficult times. Thanks to Jean McGrew whose healing journey, friendship, and beautiful poems warmed and inspired me. The writing of Mary Oliver, Lisel Mueller, Jane Kenyon, and Natalie Goldberg opened the door for me, making it seem possible for me to write. I am deeply grateful to Cynthia Zeki Riley for her generous support and comments on the final manuscript of this book. Thank you all for doing what you do and being who you are and sharing it with me.

My deepest love and heartfelt thanks to my generous husband, Stephen, who was willing to walk with me on this winding, sometimes dark, sometimes luminous road, and to Blake and Alex, whose love and hugs kept me connected to the earth.

 

Prayer of Lovingkindness

May I be at peace.
May my heart remain open.
May I awaken to the light of my own true nature.
May I be healed.
May I be a source of healing for all beings.

May you be at peace
May your heart remain open.
May you awaken to the light of your own true nature.
May you be healed.
May you be a source of healing for all beings.*

May we be at peace.
May our hearts remain open.
May we awaken to the light of our own true nature.
May we be healed.
May we be a source of healing for all beings.

******

I am at peace.
My heart remains open.
I awaken to the light of my own true nature.
I am healed.
I am a source of healing for all beings.

You are at peace
Your heart remains open.
You awaken to the light of your own true nature.
You are healed.
You are a source of healing for all beings.*

We are at peace.
Our hearts remain open.
We awaken to the light of our own true nature.
We are healed.
We are a source of healing for all beings.

*The second and fifth verses may
be repeated three times:
–first time: envision a loved one
–second time: envision someone you are at odds with
–third time: focus on a particular troubled spot of the earth.

Thus, the prayer starts with you and ripples outward like a stone dropped on a clear pond.

Susi Roos had the idea to write the second set of verses in present tense, a powerful expression of healing.

Words to the Buddhist metta ( lovingkindness) meditation adapted
from Pocketful of Miracles by Joan Borysenko, Ph.D.

Sung on my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal
Vocals and music by Margaret Dubay Mikus

 

11/3/95

To S.R.: Thank You

Thank you for the songs
at just this perfect time,
songs that nurture and support
those newly healed places,
songs of true inner knowing
and connection.

These are songs that
make me tingle and cry
with their truth
and love and joy.
These are songs that have
the power to uplift and enfold.

Thank you.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1995

From my poetic journal

 

11/20/95

Anger

I need to release some old baggage
to do what I set out to do.
A chunk of this turns out to be deep anger
directed at my long ago self,
having grown and mushroomed in the meantime.
When I think of letting it out,
it seems to me to be a white hot flame
that will melt everything in its path.
It feels quite dangerous to send anger out
to wreak such destruction.
But there is also a voice in my head
from someone I heard recently:
“Believe that you are harmless,”
meaning it is safe to let the anger go
no matter how it seems to feel;
the result will be fine, no harm done.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1995

From my poetic journal

 

11/28/95

To S.R., My Dancing Partner

It incredible to me
that we ended up partners
in this bi-weekly parallel dance.
First one leads, then the other
in perfect rhythm and harmony.

It is no coincidence that our lives
cross in so many different ways,
spiritual explorer, writer, healer,
teacher, seeker of truth,
mother, daughter, and wife.

To mix in another metaphor;
it seems to me that we are
two perfect blooming roses,
one, an early spring blossom,
the other, a later blooming variety.
Both exactly right and magnificent,
just what the garden needs.

These past years we have both grown
and changed and bloomed the more fully
side by side.
All at the perfect time;
changing with the seasons.

Speaking for myself,
this healing dance that we do
has been nourishing and nurturing.
Your intuition and Connection
continue to amaze and delight.

What an awesome, incredible woman you are
with all these pieces aligned!
The perfect mirror for me to see
reflections of my true self.
It has been a joy to watch our petals unfold.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1995

From my poetic journal

 

1/14/96

To All My Greek Columns

I have been drawn to you
and drawn you all to me,
for the purpose of building
a new temple that is luminous
from the light within.

This temple shimmers
with a glow so intense it radiates
out to all who pass by.
This is a place where people can come
to see and be seen, to heal and be healed.

You all have been the columns
that supported this growing structure,
Greek columns, each beautiful and unique,
each providing your own kind of support.

Initially the temple in my vision
was just a glowing mist in my head,
with the Greek columns at the base.
It has now become a firm structure
with your support incorporated.

Thank you.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

From my poetic journal

 

7/13/96

To S.R.

When the haze
lifts,
am I frightened
by the light?

When mist
dissipates,
is the world
all the more clearly fear?

When fog,
so dense I can taste,
no longer safely
encloses,
then…then
do I welcome back
clarity and color,
fullness of living and loving?

Or do I retreat,
shivering in fear
under dark covers?

Fear comes in many guises.
It doesn’t have to be
heart-pounding and
brain-numbing;
it could be a tiny voice
that says “It isn’t safe”
and is believed.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

From my poetic journal

 

11/26/96

Thank You to All

Never was it more true
we do not heal alone.
When did this part
of the journey begin?
Possibly with Carol
and Judy who sent me.

And another Judy who sent me
to Barbara who sent me to Susi.
Thank you to all.

Then there was Bruce and Pam
and Noreen who watched over
and Cathy and Art, who played
his part. And all whose
names I only briefly knew.
Thank you to all.

To Steve and Janet and Shalina,
two medical students, Mike and Bill,
two nurses, Dorothy Ann and Heather,
whose minds were willing and hearts were open.
To Walter who did “anesthesia by distraction,”
and to Michelle and Madeline, Sheila, and Sally.

To Bill and Bill and David and Betty,
Tom and Lynn, Eleanor and Gabrielle,
Depak and Louise, Joan and Bernie,
Mary Ann, Susan, Peter and Thomas.
To Caroline, Sam, and Cecilia;
Peggy and Pam, Etta and Mary Ann,
Toni, Merle, Joe and Dora,
Jane and Jan, Mary and Sarah.
To Nancy and Lisa, Cathie and Lou.
Thank you to all.

To Stephen and Blake and Alexandra,
there from beginning to never-ending.
Thank you, my sweets, thank you.

To Dorothy who came when I called
and stayed connected throughout.
To Virginia and Marie,
Barbara and Rae,

Chris, Emily and Raechel.

To Elaine and Jo Lynn.
To Francis and Karen and Ken.
Thank you to all.

To Margaret and Elizabeth,
Joanne and Cheryl, Ron and Paul.
To Anita, Ann and Anne,
Julie, Ginny, Kip, and Don,
Ruth and Evelyn, Beth and Sue.
To Ana and Marie, John and Mary Anne,
Barbara, Johnny, and Aubrey.
To Chuck and Joan, Miriam, Kelsey, and Kelly.
Thank you to all.

To Carol, Heidi, Yvette, and Yvonne,
Annemarie, Meryl, Karen, and Carolyn.
To Yanni, Renee, and the singing Benedictine monks.
To Susannah, Hildegard, Susun, and Neal,
Marianne, Andrew, and Rachel…
Thank you to all.

To all who sent and all who received,
all who asked and all who listened.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

From my book, As Easy as Breathing

 

12/12/96

I Am Not/I Am

I am not a particularly good Susi
or Barbara or Stephen.

I am not a wonderful Alexandra
or Virginia or Dorothy.

I am not a terrific Tom
or Bill or Bob or Lucia.

I am not a marvelous Cheryl
or Lauren or Pamela or Karen.

I am not a superb Theresa
or Hildegard or Mary or Blake or Ron.

I am…truly
a magnificent Me.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

From As Easy as Breathing
and one of my Life Support Cards (TM)

 

1/8/97

Easy Flowing

And so our tracks
from parallel, gently…gracefully…
separate, edging further apart,
no longer as from wheels
on a single vehicle.

And so our paths do part,
each enriched by the other’s richness,
as tributaries from a great river
that come together for a time
and then split off, flow enhanced,
to each deposit fertile soil
on new and different territory.

How easy can be
this flowing together
and flowing apart.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1997

From my book, As Easy as Breathing

 

1/8/97

Where Can a Teacher Go to Learn

I am no longer a beginner,
except as each day
is a new beginning.

I have done and felt and healed
and explored and learned
for long and continuing.

I am ready, willing and
more than able to teach
and to continue learning.

I have found what is time perfect,
a puzzle where all the pieces fit,
and now I need gentle direction

and guidance. “Just listen,”
I hear and know that is right;
it is not outside, but within.

Where can a teacher go to learn?
Anywhere that resonates.
Anywhere she chooses.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1997

From my poetic journal

 

6/22/97

The Glitter-Laden Bockwinkels
(at Starved Rock)

The glitter-laden Bockwinkels,
smiles upon their faces,
skin sticky from
hiking in the forest,

came to a party
dressed as themselves.
Yuri ate cake on a stick.
Frosting found Kira’s

nose and cheeks and chin.
Chani displayed her easy
prowess at being a dancing
girlish pretzel.

The Bockwinkels range
from small to taller,
each one quite unique.
With gentle hearts and beaming eyes

they clutched their party balloons.
From Kira’s small hand
and teasing, testing eye,
one big sphere slipped out

and floated up higher than
any hand could catch.
Mom Bock tried her best,
even balancing on a chair,

but the illusive ribbon
remained just out of reach.
Still she tried once more,
with support and Kira

on her shoulders, standing
again on aforesaid chair.
The slender brown arm
reached and stretched

and stretched yet further still…
until… the treasure was
happily restored. With secure
loops around small wrists,

the B’s did leave the party,
for quick pics with a wooden Indian,
with smiles and silly faces,
glitter star on lip and forehead,

shiny specks in hair and ears,
balloons swelling under one shirt.
Then off they went,
giggles and energy spent,

packed in the car,
sweaty thighs sticking on seats,
to meet with Dad B and sleep
in the deep with a peaceful heart.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1997

From my poetic journal

 

5/20/05

Invite Fear to Tea

What would it look like, feel like,
to invite fear to tea,
warily circle, then sit, sipping?
No judgment, no struggle,

only acknowledgment and being with,
not to understand or accommodate
or even talk with,
not to lessen or wrestle with.

Just to sit, sipping tea,
graciously, neutrally,
looking eye into eye,
quite normally.

Invite fear to tea,
sit down naturally,
calmly, not as with an enemy,
engage in social niceties:

Sugar? One lump or two? Milk or lemon?
Glance away thoughtful,
not stare or press for conversation,
not in curiosity, not in capitulation.

If ever I could…

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2005

From my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

Mom and Me in 2009 Copyright MDMikus

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

If war had not come
and he had lived on and
they had stayed together
I would not have been born.

The unique combination of genes
the lattice upon which I grew to be
the one choosing this path for myself
all that would not…exist

here and now anyway
whatever you believe about
alternate universes where
the other forks in the road were taken.

My potential existence hung uncontrolled
on so much unbeknownst to me—
the baby yet to come—then
if war and chaos and despair

had not shaken the world
like a snow globe but violent
and at the conclusion settled back into
a sailor and a nurse meeting

through mutual friends, marrying
in their common parish church
raising seven children
me being the second.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
(c) 2015

Published in Journal of Modern Poetry, vol. 20, (2017) The Poetry Writer’s Guide to the Galaxy

Read to the End–newly rediscovered poem

Forty-seven years ago May 25 fell on a Saturday (Memorial weekend) and Stephen and I got married at Queen of Peace Church. It was 3 weeks after my graduation from the University of Michigan and 1 week after his first year law school final exams. We were both 22 years old. We were so glad to be together we held onto each other and grinned through most of the ceremony. Even after this pandemic year, that is still true.

Here is a recently rediscovered poem from 21 years ago. When I read it to Stephen he didn’t remember the incident, but really liked the poem, so here it is.

6/29/00

Read to the End

Where can you be?
they are calling
desperate in their way
to find you

in the middle of negotiation
you walked away
stepped out…to where?
Is that when you called

me and left a message
“Talk to you at home”
two hours ago and
you are not home.

Where can you be
run off, run over
leaped off a bridge
into swift green water?

Wandering lost
down familiar, but faint
Chicago city streets?
Sudden flash of “must get out”

sudden loss of stamina
to keep on such a hard
“responsible” course
you set for yourself

thinking your sacrifice
was for us?
Where could you be—
come home to me—and talk

it through, like we always do.
Take this line I throw out to you
hold fast as I pull
you back to the safety of my arms.

**
And now the rest of the story:
You left for a meeting,
an estimate on hail damage,
and came home smiling after.

No danger, no need for worry
who knew? All that energy
wasted except to realize
once again how I love you.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2000

Recently rediscovered from my poetic journal

Cutting our wedding cake, 1974

Margaret and Stephen, Door County, WI

#poem #anniversary #love #poetry #lovepoetry

My Lawrence Ferlinghetti Story, part 2

Some poems insist on being sent to the one who inspired them. I try to follow that impulse, but sometimes I lose track. My poem, “Ferlinghetti Speaks,” was one of those. It was written in 2002, but I didn’t send it to him until 2014.

The push to send it was his 95th birthday and the sense that time was running out to do it. Probably urged by my voice teacher, Kip, I emailed City Lights Booksellers (begun years back by Ferlinghetti in San Francisco) to see if that was the best address to send my poems inspired by him. The staff got back to me in 1 1/2 days: “Yes, if you send them c/o the store, they will be passed on to him. Thanks.”

Encouraged, I wrote a short letter and mailed it with the two poems (the one below included). I did not hear back, but that wasn’t the point. I did what I felt strongly I wanted / needed to do and that was enough. I wanted to tell someone that they inspired me, that who they were or what they did or wrote mattered, enough to take my time to tell them.

I felt so strongly about this, wanting to avoid regrets, as alluded to in this poem, because of previous experiences when I waited too long. So here is the second poem I sent to Lawrence Ferlinghetti, part of my honoring his passing.

3/25/14

Someone Posted on Facebook

Lawrence Ferlinghetti is 95 today
and I never did send him that poem he inspired
by his inspired reading in Chicago that day
that turned the compass needle sideways and
the streets in the Loop ran in perpendicular directions

no lie
until things settled down out of the long shadows
out back in the sun, back in touch
with the ground and the somewhere blue sky.

I considered sending him the poem
considered writing the back story
even tracked down the San Francisco address
of City Lights Booksellers
but each time I talked myself out of it

intimidated maybe
or not high enough on the crowded list
or waves of life knocking me flat sometimes.
You would think I’d learned after Vonnegut’s death,
and Susannah’s, how the good ideas, the kindnesses
left undone are the things later that haunt you
not every day, but sometimes.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2014

From Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine

The poem, “Ferlinghetti Speaks” is in My Ferlinghetti Story, part 1

Steep Street to the Bridge, San Francisco, Copyright 2007, Margaret Dubay Mikus