In Dialogue (WC, JM)

 

(Wendy Cabell and Joseph MacRae, October 24, 2020, feast day of Saint Anthony Mary Claret, patron Saint of weavers and publishers; feast day of "Joy of All Who Sorrow" Icon, above.) 

In Dialogue

1. Today's Menu

(imagined voice of God to man, 

in the spirit of Saint Euphrosynos)

Let us make an exchange,

you and I.

I'll give you Apples.

You give me pie.

*The monk Saint Euphrosynos (ninth century Palestine) was a quiet humble cook dismissed as a simpleton until a fellow monk discovered his great holiness, receiving from Saint Euphrosynos (via a dream) apples from Heaven. When the monk awoke the apples were right there beside him...and soon proved miracle working.   

2. Today's Prayer

(imagined voice of man to God, in the spirit of a 

dream phrase Joseph awoke with in 2010)

Troubles fill my hands

so I turn them upside down.

All falls now

into Your hands.

Amen. 

*From prompt: craft poems in imagined voice, from Jory Mickleson's Poetry and Prayer class (Monastery of Saint Gertrude, Cottonwood, Idaho), October 24, 2020.

Circle of the Leaf (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, published in Writers at Play Presents: The Art of Letter Writing, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2023. From 1992.)

Circle of the Leaf

I toss these leaves upon the wind,

till shined upon by New Moon's spirit…

Winter snows melt,

as spring rains come.

Magic is being performed,

transforming the forests of sleepy brown,

to living green.

To give beauty and shade, in summer heat.

Then comes the Autumn,

The leaves now turn to red and gold.

Die and fall gently to the ground.

Soon to decay, and fade away.

Then will come the sleeping winter, 

with rain and snow.

The wind will blow.

But again new life awaits,

waiting beneath the blanket

of fallen leaves.

When Swans Return (JM)

 

(Joseph MacRae, published in Mindful Poetry Moments, fourth edition, edited by Stacey Simms and Eddie Gonzalez, The Well (in partnership with NPR's On Being Project), 2022. Also published in Writers at Play Presents: The Art of Letter Writing, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2023. A 1992 poem reworked for the above.)

When Swans Return 

(journal entry for 9-11, Salmon Creek, Alaska) 

As fire shakes the world 

a small wave ripples the water 

in this outback. As I tag the salmon, 

so far from the chaos, the boom. 

As fall returns to the North Land 

the tundra swans return 

to Salmon Lake. 

A rest on their long journey 

to the South Land. 

As they land upon the pristine waters 

gliding smoothly upon the shallows 

barely a wake to be seen. 

For this brief moment 

they are the Emperor and the Empress 

of Salmon Lake. 

Autumn Sunset (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, published in Writers at Play Presents: The Art of Letter Writing, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2023. From 1992.)

Autumn Sunset

Sunset of orange and red

soon to set upon the West.

A pastel scene painted upon a 

changing sky.

Where clouds of grey mix with emerald light.

Now stained with gold, and trimmed in red.

Silhouette the mountains of purple haze,

and set the sea ablaze.

Soon comes the twilight, then the

night.

Memory of Carolina (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, published in Writers at Play Presents: The Art of Letter Writing, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2023. From 1992.)

Memory of Carolina

Autumn in the Carolinas,

Blue Ridge Mountains standing silent,

leaves now turn from green to gold.

With frosty mornings sharp and cold.

Hazy days and starlit nights.

The orchards now bare,

the crops are in,

only the pumpkins left to pick.

Soon the leaves will cover the ground,

as fall rains come,

the creeks turn brown.

Fields are plowed,

and left to stand 

through winter storms, and gentle snows.

To waken in the distant Spring.

Indian Summer (JM)

(Joseph MacRae, 1992) 

Indian Summer

To sit beneath the maple tree,

in hazy days of Indian Summer.

To watch the late afternoon sun,

as it slowly descends upon the West.

To smell the cool fresh breeze 

gently blowing from the North. 

To listen to the whisper

of the golden leaves

rustling gently in the breeze, 

as if to tell us, winter will soon

return....

Buttered Heaven (JM)

(Joseph MacRae, published in Come to the Table: Recipes for Loving and Serving, edited by Ched Johnson and Nancy Collins-Warner, Monastery of Saint Gertrude, Cottonwood, Idaho, 2021. Originally written October 31, 2020, eve of All Saints' Day, prompted by the Abbey of the Arts retreat Listening at the Threshhold: Voices of Saints and Ancestors)

A rural Oregonian, Joseph MacRae is a former logger-forest tech-fishery-tech-seaman-farmer. His heart has never quite left the primordial Alaskan bush, which weaves its way into his poetry. Part bear, he's been known to say, "it's not a table without honey". (Those sticky paw prints through the kitchen though, they're not from him.)

Storytelling is something seeped into these ol' bones, from branches on the family tree where poetry was crafted, legends spun. And seeped into these ears, from childhood nights by fire or table where Mama (Trudy), or Grandma (Oza), or Grandpa (Doc MacRae) wove magic to outshine Alladin. 

I could write about grief for the downplay of storytelling today. Shorter attention spans prefer tweets and screens and "reality" TV. But I could write about the heart of the sacred, waiting in these stories we need to tell. Even the simplest. 

Growing up, for instance, I looked forward to the few days a year I was sick. Yes, you read that right. It was great! Home scot free from school, I'd settle down at the kitchen table and watch my Grandmother Oza MacRae's magic. She'd take bread, fry it golden, slather it with butter and honey and put it in a bowl of hot milk. 

Nothing ever tasted so good! "It will soothe your throat", she'd say. And it did! Of course today they tell us differently, that milk makes respiratory issues worse. Glad my grandmother Oza never heared this. Think I'll pretend I didn't hear it either. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some toast on the fry... 

Grandma Oza's Magic Milk Toast

2 slices buttered bread, and two cups milk, preferably whole, mixed with honey to taste. Heat the sweetened milk in a pot until hot. Fry buttered bread in a pan until golden. Divide milk between two bowls and put a slice of the fried bread into each. Let it all soften a moment in magical metamorphosis...and eat! Serves two.