Michele McFadden's Shared Poems

this is God's kingdom
not the corporations' kingdom
not the 1%'s kingdom
not the oil companies' kingdom
this is God's earth, God's solar system, God's universe

this kingdom does not belong to humankind
it belongs to the birds of the air,
the fish of the seas,
the beasts of the fields

who knows how the treasures of Earth serve all life?
the petroleum and tar sands left by dinosaurs
by Paleozoic plants and seas
now long gone
the gases deep within hidden crevices
aquifers long unknown
left for millions of years
now tapped

dare we continue to take them
for a
couple
of
centuries
in
the
long
long
long march of history?

those before us lived
just fine
without pilfering the earth of its treasures

why not we?

this is God's kingdom
not the corporations' kingdom
not the 1%'s kingdom
not the oil companies' kingdom
not America's kingdom

this is God's kingdom
God's kingdom
God's kingdom

I had a love affair with a tree once
couldn’t take it with me

had to let it go—
you know—
with the house

but each year as spring approaches…
my thoughts wander back
to white blossoms and filtered sunlight
and I want to ask
are you okay?
are they treating you well?
do they appreciate you?
the way I did, I mean

and I wish I could stand next to you
feel you
reach up and pick that first exquisite plum of the season
bite through your purple skin
into your burgundy flesh
and
letting the juice run down my chin
feel that explosion of sweet-tart bliss

you kept me in the kitchen
six weeks each hot July
dealing with your abundance
canning chutneys and jellies and jams
putting up pricked plums in light honey syrup
sweat dripping down my face and under my arms
taking basketfuls to Mary McAnena
for the homeless at Hart Park

one morning of one year
after weeks of hot canning
strolling out to find your still-profligate branches
had dropped bushelfuls of ripe satsumas
I stood beneath you
threw up my hands and pleaded
“Stop! Stop!”

the next summer
the meagerest of harvests
chastised, I never did that again

seventeen years we lived and danced together
seventeen years nurtured each other
such love
such love
it must’ve been our love that made your plums
so succulently sweet

Carousel

(for Marvin, Paul, Roberta, and Diana)

there is a carousel
spinning, ever spinning

and sometimes those riding
must forget to hold on
glorious they are
splendid
enjoying the ride so much they forget
to hold on
for dear life

dear life

radiant they are
their faces
bodies
souls
and as the carousel spins
too quickly perhaps
too beautifully
they forget
they forget to hold on

and off they spin
into some other place
where angels see them coming
smile
celebrate
and welcome them
with open wings

How can there be only one way to know God?
One temple in which to worship
One path to walk
One place, even, to which we all go
After this --
Life!

If there is one thing God loves
It's diversity

Did God create one kind of
cavern
conifer
cactus
bog

Fashion one type of
feline
jellyfish
forest
deer

Form one sort of
orange
orchestra
orchid
gem

Contemplate one style of
seascape
saltiness
snowflake
reef

Imagine for a nanosecond
This God
Of diversity
Of quadzillions of stars planets microbes thoughts
Arranging one way
To know Me
Hear Me
Worship Me

Imagine that
Imagine that

A fools errand for sure

I'd rather lose myself
Contemplating a
Single coral reef
The colors in a changing sunset
The phosphorescence of a turbulent tide

Yes

That

What makes sense to me:

listening
feeding a feral cat
caring for my body
walking each day in nature
seeing the beauty in diversity
giving 10% of everything away
creating beautiful surroundings
letting my garden rest each seventh year
handing my second coat to a man with none
ignoring the spiders in the corners of my room

time with a friend
my children
hard work
loyalty
poetry
music
awe

beginning each day with black coffee and dark chocolate
I think that's it.