I've been part of a new Poetry Is Life group in West Michigan, hosted by wren wordsmith. Poetry is such a lively place for imagination to play.
I've also been thinking in new ways about protection and safety, especially as clients, who are usually involved in movement and change work, bring their concerns to me. As someone who once used my particular privilege to fill a safety role in a lot of social justice marches (you'll likely see my counterparts in orange vests at your next street action), it's been satisfying to think about protection in different ways.
How do we protect our peace, our hearts, and our purpose while still showing up for the difficult work we committed to? This poem came out of that thinking.
Protective Magic
We have symbols
and salt
amulets
even hexes
crystals, smoke
a spoken chant
perplexes
Nature has a million spells
camouflage
sprays of sulfur
a flex of prickly spine
poison venom vexes
those who dine
on flesh
The deer out back
eat bark, leaves, and shoots
pressure on each native
plant, on each seed needed
for medley, multiplicity
among the cottonwoods
the black cherry, the sumac
by the creek
ID: A photo of a milkweed seed pod, opening.
But the milkweeds
I curate with delight
sprout with white fluff
tied to brown germ
among neighbors’ neat lawns
a mouthful of sticky
latex-like sap
the deer leave them be
We too are so chewy,
goopy, milky
the greedy mouths must
give us up
We are for the monarchs
the migrants
the butterflies