Poetry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection. 

- Wendell Berry

Hannah Coulter

Last night I finished one of the books I wanted to read over the summer:  Hanna Coulter by Wendell Berry. It was one of the most endearing, books I have ever read. I wasn't sure what to expect when I first started reading it. Of course, I knew it must be good since Wendell Berry is the author, but I didn't know exactly how wonderful it would be. I'm always amazed at Wendell Berry's ability to say several profound and thought provoking things in one page!

Hannah Coulter is written from the perspective of an old woman looking back at her life. (another amazing feet by the author, you truly forget it is really written by a man.) The book is filled with sorrow and death, but it is amazing to see the characters overcome their grief. It also deals with change in family and culture. sometimes good, sometimes not.  but whatever it is, the characters wake up every morning and "live right on."  I can't help but feel I have grown wiser simply by reading it...at least, I hope so.

All I could do when I finished was sit on the couch, look at the book, and somehow wish it would keep going and never end. But, I loved the ending, so I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way. I can't say I never cried while reading this book, I certainly did. There are several parts in the book I wanted to underline, but it being a library book I didn't feel I had the liberty. (and, silly me, I didn't think to mark the page.) but, out of the whole book, this is one of my favorite quotes:
   
     "Grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery."