Ice Day Poem by Nadja Maril

Ice4

Ice Day

By Nadja Maril

As soon as I see the sun

I reach for my coat in the closet.

It is time to walk

On this ice day.

Frozen bits melt into drops

Slide down gutters, pipes, trees

Plop on to the cold wet mush we once called snow.

 

I match my steps to my dog’s  wet prints on the asphalt

Keeping her leash firmly taut I choose my path

Carefully inspecting the speckled road and pavement

Remnants of ices to be avoided, clumps of salt

Detours created for the sake of Chloe’s paws.

 

This is a strange time of year

Transition from Winter into Spring

Cold and wet ooze

Sloppy puddles, chilly mush

I think of snow cones so desirable in summer

Now distasteful as the wind blows briskly on my face.

 

The sun’s rays warm  my armor

Heavy jacket, wool cap and padded gloves

Ultimately  arctic blast seeps into my bones

Hastens my return to shelter

Listening to spinning wheels and scraping shovels

I admire the still blue sky from my window.

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High in the Andes Mountains of Peru the Number Three Has Many Meanings

I hold three crisp green Coca leaves…messages delivered to the fabric of the universe….

The Sacred Valley approaching Mlantaytambo
The Sacred Valley approaching Ollantaytambo

The Power of Three

 

I hold three crisp green Coca leaves

Arrange carefully their graceful elongated shapes

Admiring the small bouquet

An offering, grasped between my thumb and two fingers.

 

The chime of the bell signals it’s time

To inhale and expel three breaths imbued with my intentions

One for the underground snake

One for the prowling puma

One for the condor in the clouds.

 

Bits of fluffy cotton ask for rain

Sugar candy begs for a sweet life

Quinoa for sustenance and strength.

We sprinkle many things and make our requests

On the cloth of our existence

Creating a small bundle to be buried or burned

Messages delivered to the fabric of the universe.

 

Our demands are great.

Our offerings small.

The lack of balance spins the circle around

Creating a never ending spiral

Propelling us to repeat the journey

Humans on a spinning top, likely to fall from grace.

 

An altar placed within a church where once a temple stood

A holy place filled with memories and dreams

The trinity of life; past, present and future

The father, the son the Holy Ghost

The sun, the moon, the stars

The father, the mother, and the child

The three points of the triangle, a mountain stretching towards the sky.

 

We reach for the heavens

Forgetting to embrace the present

We stumble and repeat past mistakes

Searching for the answers

Trying to find our way back home.

______Nadja Maril   1/27/2015

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Machu Picchu, High in the Sky and Close to the Clouds

Approaching the realm of the condor
I ascend stairs of stone

Our first afternoon at Machu Picchu standing near the "Guard House"
Our first afternoon at Machu Picchu standing near the “Guard House”

Machu Picchu

Approaching the realm of the condor

I ascend stairs of stone

Deep breaths expand my lungs and mind

Transported by magnificence

I imagine the puma stalking his prey without fear.

Built without wheels or written words

Knowledge kept alive through textiles and storytelling

Knots of rope tabulating the harvest

I count the steps and bravely climb, afraid to fall.

Touching the clouds

I feel the labor of many hands

Pushing, pulling, shifting the weight and burden

Of boulders, the mountain’s power

The secrets of Mother Earth pressing beneath my feet

I stand amazed.

————Nadja Maril  1/25/2015

Poetry on a Cape Cod Beach

Long Nook Beach in Truro
Long Nook Beach in Truro

Easter weekend on Cape Cod, walking on a windy beach, the sun shining in your face. It can’t get much better than this!

Patterns on the Beach

Shapes that look like fish bones

Pressed into the wet sand

The impressions of undulating waves

A thumbprint of the sea.

I walk along the ocean’s edge

at Long Nook Beach and try not to get my shoes wet.

It’s too cold to take them off.

The wind at the top of the cliffs is strong

Strong enough to lift a parasail glider and suspend him

High above the beach with the tall cliffs at his back.

We admire him and the view he must have

Looking down on the sand bars and rippling water below

Seeing from a distance

the water’s patterns in the sand.

Sand closeupselfie

 

Keeping Alive My Memories of Diane Fien Kelly

Diane BenchThis past weekend we celebrated Diane FIen Kelly’s birthday. She would have been turning 57. So her dear friend Jean Melton lit 57 candles and put them all around her house and threw a big party where we ate, and drank, told stories and jokes, and reconnected with old friends. It was the kind of party that Diane would have liked. I could almost hear her laughing.

Diane plaque

The following day was the dedication of a bench, purchased by our book club in Diane’s honor and memory, positioned on the trail by the USNA stadium trail by her home.  Diane loved to be outside walking on a trail, and her last year on earth she made of point of truly savoring every precious moments, moments that included her two children Brendan and Lauren and her dog Stuart, a rescue from Hurricane Katrina.

Book clubs come in all shapes and sizes, and with a variety of procedures and traditions for choosing books, organizing discussions, and providing food and libations.  While some years Diane was busy with her work, training teachers in the field of special education teaching deaf and blind children, when present at a book club gathering her enthusiasm for our selection (even if she didn’t read the entire book) and for the food being served was always heartfelt.  She was the one who kept asking us to keep a record of the food being served with our selections for a future cookbook. Diane’s big heart and positive approach to just about everything she did was inspiring. She was the kind of person who was always looking out for the “little guy” and the person who when faced with adversity always managed to see the situation in a positive way.

Diane kids

Last week we were asked by her college friends for suggestions of the books which were Diane’s favorites and while initially I thought of her puzzling over Kazuo Ishiguro’s A Pale View of Hills , it was Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards which tells the story of the impact of a doctor’s decision to give away his infant daughter at birth because she has Downs Syndrome, that I remember being one of Diane’s favorite books. The doctor in the story assumes his wife will be satisfied raising the daughter’s healthy twin brother and thinking her daughter died at birth, but he’s wrong. Meanwhile his former nurse raises the baby girl as her own in another city and as the years pass memories are not forgotten. That’s all I’m going to say because I certainly do not want to spoil the plot for those who haven’t read the book.

So in closing, if you are walking along the trail around the USNA stadium and want to take a moment to stop and think about your day or listen to the birds and feel the breeze rustle through the trees (There are a few small ones nearby) have a seat. Read the plaque and think of Diane!

Thank you to Eileen Leahy and the Department of Recreation of Park for helping to organize the bench installation.

Diane

Annapolis signs of springtime

RobinLooking  at the tree just outside my window, I see a Robin Red Breast preening herself as she rearranges herself on her nest. It;s spring. I hear plenty of bird calls as I walk across the dewy grass first thing in the morning to fetch my paper. Yes, we still read our newspapers printed on newsprint. I’ve tried doing without and reading online, but it’s just not the same as spreading out newsprint all over the table. I just have to remember to keep gathering up all those papers to recycle. It’s part of the routine. Today is bicycle to work day  and it is a perfect day for bicycling. This weekend families will start arriving into town to celebrateCommissioning Week and this year to economize there will be no Blue Angels.  I know my sentiment is not popular, but I will not miss them. I do not like the noise and neither does my dog. If you would like some inspiration for creating a salad or what to buy this weekend at the Farmers’ Markets check out my latest posting on Baltimore Girl Cooks by the Bay. Happy Weekend.

Remembering Diane Fien Kelly

We all know at least one really nice person, the kind of person who always thinks the best of everyone they meet and who always seems to think of the right things to say at the right time.

Last night the world lost one of the nicest people I’ve had the privilege to call my friend— Diane Fien Kelly. She waged a valiant battle against a virulent form of cancer and now her pain is over, but we who knew her are left with a large hole in our hearts.

Diane was a member of my book club, which I often write about. She will be sorely missed.  A supporting player, she may not have always read everyone’s book selection, but was always asking for everyone’s recipes.(One of these days we probably should create a cookbook). Diane liked to laugh and her smile would light up her face.  She was always the person in the room who wanted to listen to what everyone else had to say, rather than taking center stage. She always made you feel good about any project you told her about, offering supportive advice. In her professional career she worked in Special Education, which fit right in with her desire to help others who needed extra attention and understanding.

Even while undergoing chemo and radiation treatments, instead of feeling sorry for herself, she was still anxious to help others. Last fall while I was recovering from my broken back, Diane came to see me with a home cooked dinner and accompanied me on a walk around my neighborhood— apologizing that she didn’t have more time to spend with me. Who was helping who? As recently as two weeks ago, she still focused her strength on reaching out to friends sending thank you notes. I am inspired by her kindness.

We never got a chance to work out at the gym together. (I kept threatening to take her to my pilates class.) Fate sometime has a way of intervening. But the memory of Diane is very much alive in my mind and in her spirit I will remember her with a renewed dedication to fully appreciate every day as a gift and to learn by her example of small and large kindnesses.