Whatever Hallowed Eve is, it’s at least a time to have fun, to dress up in funny or scary costumes, to say BOO, to eat mountains of Candy Corn (a horrifyingly bad candy), and most of all to laugh with and at ourselves. As the poet says, so it goes.
HALLOWED EVENING
Do the beloved dead
come back
this night
to sit in their favorite
easy chairs
and breathe in
the earthly fragrances
they once knew
so well?
Do we believe
that heaven is so
ailing
that the beloved dead
would not be
infinitely happy
there and would need
a trip back to earth
to fill their hearts?
Best allow
the commercial
takeover of this night
to erase all thoughts
of this bizarre idea,
and to enjoy the dark.
Best just open the door
and hand out candy
to kids in costumes.
by Carole Jean Smith, poet, Watertown MA., Into The Wild
As well we should!—because, according to Western Christian tradition, the next day, November 1, is declared Holy: All Saints Day, all Hallows Day, as in “Hallowed be thy name.” It is a day to honor all saints who are deemed to have attained heaven. Silly, right? Because who knows who is in heaven? Sainthood is not about points for good deeds or for martyrdom, a vocation to which few are called. It is safe to assume that it is God’s gracious loving desire that everyone be heavenbound. If you want to know who a saint is, look in the mirror—and grin!
WHO COOKS FOR YOU?
I call this critter a hooting owl fish. She, or he, was photographed by David Doubilet and Jennifer Hayes in Night Life for National Graphic Magazine (10/21) in the darkest night-depths of the sea. “The only way to know which way is up is to watch which direction the bubbles are going,” Doubilet says.
HINENI (Hebrew for "Here I am" pron. hee-NAY-nee)
Here is the latest discovery in fossildom. Years ago, with a friend at a museum of natural history, looking at fossils, my friend announced: “There are no fossils.” I did not pursue her certitude, because I knew I would get a lecture on “creationism”—the idea that God created everything fully formed, that is, no room for evolutionary processes. But this little crab defies that notion. I call her/it/them/who knows “Buster in Yellow.” They are a fossil encased in hard plastic. She says: “hineni”.
CONVERSATION WITH A WASP
In a piece by Paul Hond, Columbia Alumni/ae Magazine, Fall, 2021, he quotes Michelle Ashkin, ’04 alumna: “Then a strange thing happened. My mother and I were looking at a wasp. It cocked its head, and my mother and I just stood there. Did you see that? We moved, and the wasp followed our movement. My mother and I looked at each other, and it was an ‘aha moment’ for both of us. This is a being. This being sees us, or sees something—recognizes it, and is aware of it. How in the world were we going to kill it? We couldn’t—it became a being, not a disposable, not ‘oh, we can kill it because there are hundreds more outside. So we found a cup, captured it and let it go.' ”
I used to do the same for ants in the city of Cambridge. Then I’d unfasten the screen and put it on the window sill where it froze until it felt safe enough to bug off on its own. Lady bugs —family signs of new life—get to stay in residence.
We are human beings. All Creation is shared Being. So be it.
THE MISSING TREE
She is bent but not broken. He is weary but not tired.
They are old and alive, missing every tiny life, animate or inanimate,
that ever was, or is, or is to be—without regret.
WISDOM
“Lord increase my bewilderment.” That is the entirety of this Sufi Muslim prayer.
“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Jesus, according to King James.Mt. 6:36
“Let go and let God.” Twelve Step Recovery (AA et. al.) slogan wisdom.
CRACKED CLARITY CONFUSED
I’m going out
without a jacket
or a hat, only a mockingbird
for directions.
Carole Jean Smith, Into the Wild. Poems in praise of the beauty of our imperiled world.
©Lyn G. Brakeman, 2021
