A New Path
Official website of Margaret Anne Kean
Droplets shimmer on bare branches,
little white shiny pearls of light.
Even in the dead of winter
nature finds a way to decorate itself,
to dress up for the new year.
Published by poems-for-all.com
A Candle for My Father
A quiet man,
a banked fire.
Once I leaned into his flames.
His light refracted through me.
His warmth sparked other fires,
candle to candle, light catching light.
But now in his winter, his fuel runs low
starter fire scattered,
dimming to the
of a single
Published by poems-for-all.com
2018 # 1821
B L O G
Thoughts About Writing and Reading Poetry
In her book, A Poetry Handbook, Mary Oliver wrote: "...a mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible poetry....poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes indeed."
In a 2008 interview in The Bomb Magazine, Lauren LeBlanc asked poet Ada Limon this question: "Is poetry an act of naming for you?" She answered: "I love this question, because I am, in fact, obsessed with naming. The idea of putting words to the ultimately unsayable is fundamentally the poet's insurmountable task."
She goes on to say why she loves poetry: "I love poetry for numerous reasons, but one very essential reason is that poetry is the only creative writing art form that builds breath into it. It makes you breathe. It not only allows for silence, it demands it."
Both Oliver and Limon put into words thoughts that have been inarticulate in my mind for many years. I am in awe of poets who can use language to capture what happens in our brains and in our hearts when we notice egrets walking slowly along the beach after low tide, patiently lifting their long legs as they search for sustenance. I read Oliver's poem "The Ponds" and know my imperfections to be acknowledged and accepted. Jane Kenyon's "Walking Alone in Late Winter" captures the complexity of relationships. As a former choral singer, I am stunned, and find myself holding my breath, while reading W.S. Merwin's "Weinrich's Hand." And as I grow older, I am moved deeply by Merwin's "Dew Light."
Poets express the deep longings and fears we all experience.They use poetic forms and the musicality of words to grieve senseless violence, to celebrate the life force within jazz rhythms and to honor a life fading before our eyes.
I believe in mystery and wonder, in the interconnectedness among all living creatures and the reality of another dimension we cannot see. I am drawn to the beauty of creation – to the drops of waters hanging like pearls on a barren tree in winter, to the iridescent pink of a hummingbird head and the deep blackness of the crow’s feathers.
I believe that the human body, mind and spirit are deeply entwined. Although I am not a scientist, I am fascinated by recent discoveries in neuroscience that show how the brain is re-wired through meditation, by what we read and what we spend time thinking about. (As has been stated, “Our mind grows by what we feed it.”) To me, poetry is a way to write about all of that and to celebrate the extraordinary mystery of the ordinary, everyday lives that we are given.
A Favorite Poem
The World I Live In
I have refused to live
locked in the orderly house of
reasons and proofs.
The world I live in and believe in
is wider than that. And anyway,
what's wrong with Maybe?
You wouldn't believe what once or
twice I have seen. I'll just
tell you this:
only if there are angels in your head will you
every, possibly, see one.
- Mary Oliver, Felicity
(c) 2015 Penguin Press
Breathing and Being
She said it was an act of rebellion. Men and women choosing to lie perfectly still, consciously breathing, simply being, not doing. A dangerous rebellion.
And it makes me wonder what would happen if across the globe people chose to simply be and not always do? If we brought our hearts to our work and not just our minds? What if we chose to focus on kindness, breath and being present now, in this only day we have been given? To not be filled with thoughts that anticipate tomorrow but focus only on this moment we are in. What tectonic shift could happen?
What if we refused to get wrapped up in senseless arguments, petty concerns and simply led with breath, kindness and sensitivity. If we prayed for ourselves and for others around us that our hearts would be opened and softened to recognize beauty in nature and in other people around us? What revolution would that bring?
Peace certainly can’t be achieved through war. It won’t necessarily be achieved solely through loud protests. Perhaps it can be achieved through conscious silence and attention? By groups standing purposely still. Kneeling in silence. Walking quietly, deliberately, intentionally, slowly, one foot in front of another. Placing ourselves, our bodies, our breath in a reverential, sacrificial way for another.
Imagine if masses of people were to stop, to stand still, to breathe in and to exhale, together, on this journey.
The ocean might breathe again. The land might breathe again. The hawks, the crows, the hummingbirds, the pigeons, the sky and the clouds, could all breathe a long exhale sigh of release and relief. What a healing could come upon the land. What a different way we could be with each other. We might even see God in the faces of all our brothers and sisters.
B I O
Margaret Anne Kean is a poet whose writing calls attention to the details of ordinary daily life as well as the interconnectedness between nature and human beings. She also seeks to explore the extraordinary internal landscapes we each hold.
A graduate of Scripps College in Claremont, where she majored in British/American Literature, Margaret focused on her career and family before finally responding to her life-long urge to write.
“I like to think that years of journaling and writing for other purposes, were all ‘pre-writing’ leading to this new adventure. It is humbling at my age to be a beginner. And exhilarating to finally pursue my passion.”
Margaret earned her MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Antioch University/Los Angeles. She nurtures her writing through voraciously reading other poets, and has participated in workshops at Pasadena City College, the Idyllwild Arts Academy Writers’ Week and private workshops with other authors. Her work has been published in “poems-for-all.com,” Eunoia Review and Drizzle Review.
Margaret lives in Pasadena, California with her husband of 38 years, and enjoys time with her two daughters whose stories are theirs to share.