Alchemist

Christiane Taubira, French Minister of Justice

Alchemist

In the cantankerous, impolite grounds of the French Parliament,
debate was raging over same-sex marriage.
Emotions ran so heated, bloody violence
had spilled over into the streets of beautiful Paris.
Minister of Justice Christiane Taubira took her place at the podium.
The alchemist!  So filled with humanity, warmth and charm,
deeply herself in any milieu,
she melted hearts with her insight and vision.
Alchemist!   Looking back over time,
how often has the right to marry
excluded any and all outcast groups,
Jews, Protestants, lapsed Catholics, actors?!
The question lingers:   who are we allowed to love?
Christiane reminds the world, there are children,
children like any other, laughing, crying, skinning their knees,
“children who detest broccoli, who drive us crazy.”
With these few words, she, the alchemist,
reminds us of what is at stake.
How much of our humanity do we want to risk?
How wide a swath of ourselves is it possible to hate?
Christiane, the alchemist, changes the world,
“transforming the metal of politics
into the honey of poetry,” (*)
leaving the stunned group with the words of Tagore:
“where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way....”
She smiles her deep disarming smile, and leaves the podium,
the world irrevocably changed in her wake.

Annelinde Metzner     
(* quote from Paula Di Perna, Women’s E-News)
April 26, 2013


Click here for a full article about Christiane Taubira's historical speech at the French Parliament, inspiring full legalization of same-sex marriage on April 23rd, 2013. 

Sunrise on Lakey Mountain

Sunrise on Lakey Mountain  
                      
A few claps of thunder,
that sudden shocking thunder
that bursts out of the silence of Spring,
a sudden downpour of early morning rain,
and then, the sun!
It’s Spring on Lakey Mountain.
She giggles as the new green leaves
burst forth in her forest cover,
tickling their way up her legs.
In the warming sun,
the rich smell of newly warmed earth
sinks into my winter-frozen soul.
I can hear worms in there, awakening too!
Horses nibble casually at the brilliant greenness,
as if they purely deserved this beauty,
as if this happened every day.
They shake their manes and tails,
just for the sheer beauty of it.
I am thawing too,
opening to the expanse
as the Earth embraces me once more.
Lakey Mountain giggles like a maiden
as the new greenness tickles her knees.
I hear this song of softness,
and I am well once again.

Annelinde Metzner
Lakey Mountain
April 18, 2013

Red Bud

Red Bud

In April bare grey trees remind me that this is no dream,

this everyday, this every new day-

The cherry blossoms, first to bloom,

then scattering in breeze, reminding of snow,

and now today, lush and greener by the hour,

intent on producing sweet red fruit.

The hummer’s return, a long, long drink,

fitting for one returned from Guatemala!

And then, ecoutez!  Welcome the wood thrush,

her deep multilayered melody guiding me back.

Welcome thrush!  Welcome me!

My eyes dilate, hummers buzz, and the chickadee not two feet from me,

cocking and cocking the wee head, seeming to want my finger for a perch.

A bluebird, shy as Spring’s first new,

and cardinals, and goldfinch!  A riot of color!

I can’t translate this, I can’t write it!

Along the banks of the river, red bud, misnamed in her purple gown,

paints filagrees in the forest canopy, here there and everywhere,

suspended in a perfect ballet, sucking my breath away.

The new dogwood, still clinging to green,

not yet ready for the full openness of total white.

I can’t translate, I can’t write.

Pale yellows and greens creep tenderly up the mountain,

a turkey buzzard gliding on the thermal winds.

A great peace relaxes me all along my spine,

up to my tippy-top, my eyes dilate, for the everyday of this,

it won’t go away, tomorrow and tomorrow, hooray and hooray,

here’s my world come back again, this day, this day, this very day.

Annelinde Metzner

April 21, 2005

Muso Koroni

Can we live with all her power?
The wide, curved hips, knees to the ground,
armbands high on the rounded limbs,
courage in the shoulders,
the babe cradled in the strength of her arms.
And her head!
Three ropes of hair,  the crown so high,
a consciousness wide as the whole village,
a knowing big as Earth herself,
full of song, stamping, full of dance.
Muso Koroni, the earth goddess of the Bambara,
“pure woman with ancient soul.”
And what if whenever you came to your village,
she greeted you?
Her greeting:  You have power too!
Woman my own, my future, you,
womanchild for whom I suckled babes,
fruit of my breasts, child of my pain,
daughter of my countless days,
You!  You have this power,
and I’m here for you still.
I, who have given birth to all life,
mother of all things, both tame and wild,
Babe, I suckle you. Know this!
All the power in these muscular thighs
you carry with you still,
daughter of my tears, gem of my years,
progeny of the yet-to-be,
rooted, earth-bound, dark-eyed, wild, wise.




Annelinde Metzner
April 15, 1996


Listen to a live performance of "Muso Koroni" from Annelinde's concert, "In the Mother Grove" (2009), available for sale at the Buy tab.  The poem is read by Deb Scott with marimba accompaniment by Sue Ford.