Red Oleander

Red Oleander

Red Oleander                                        

A salamander pale green as the new leaves of May

opens its orange lung-sac, brilliant, to the sun.

Three times at every pause!

In the breeze, red Oleander bends on her long stem, celebrating.

I am drawn down a quiet lane by the scent of jasmine

beguiling my heart, a path toward joy.

The dear Earth wafts up into me,

warm as fresh-baked bread,

filling my womb with Her love.

With my feet in the sand,

I pull Her love up into me,  to power my days.

Mother holds me tenderly, the mourning dove

in her palmetto-basket nest, giving, giving,

we Her babies, Her vast dream,

we Her future and Her now.

The black fin of a dolphin arises from the sea, ancient as days,

loving Her into the fathomless tomorrow.

Annelinde Metzner

Folly Beach

May 2010

Spring in Appalachia

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.
  

The Egg

The egg, elliptical, luminous, whole,
separate, indivisible, complete,
nexus of life, invisible, unspoken,
unnamable ancestral pearl of power,
chosen one: you are my pride, my treasure.
I nurture and guard you with all my life,
a green dragon whose jewel lies hidden
in the humming recesses of her dark-red cave.
I share you with the mammals, and the fish too,
the birds, amphibians, insects, snakes:
our common inheritance, our common being.
All of us, whether we fly or swim,
trot, slither or leap beyond our height,
we all love you the same, and commend you
with lifetimes of attention and lavished care.
There are others, too, ferns and firs,
and maybe fruits, too, our cousins
guarded within the muscled trunks
of our rooted green sisters who grow in the Earth.
There they pull from the black nutrition
the crystals of power, the amino molecules,
fuel from which you radiate light
in fruit, in flower, in ovule, in shell.
I feel you well, with every moon,
through thirteen moons in every year.
You arise and make yourself plain,
crown jewel in the parade of our homeland,
flowering, intoxicating, odoriferous, fecund,
temple priestess of life everlasting
in burgundy velvet, concealing and beckoning.
It is easy, and not easy, to court you, egg,
and find you whole, enthroned in all life,
at once at the center and imminent in all things.
It is easy, and yet to properly seek you,
one must have peace, and presence, and life,
abundant life, and love without question
that leaps into the future, many times ones own height.
I bought a dozen of you today,
to boil you and color you, an essence, a symbol,
a ritual item more real than words
and you’re everywhere, among baskets and bunnies,
colored and white, foam and fluff,
and children’s hands under the bushes.
It is Eostar, your long-ago day
when Russian mothers baked you into bread,
and Czech mothers painted you for hours,
and my own ancestors walked for miles
to gather you one by one from afar,
all of us looking to the reborn world,
the flyers, the creepers, the unfathomable sea-swimmers.
These eggs are ours, our hours, our years,
the perfect pearl of our lives.


Annelinde Metzner
March 19, 1989 

Forest Floor

The ground of our being. Our nourishment.
Mineral mother, cellular energy vibrating beyond our perception,
breaking down and regenerating into soil, humus, earth
(sometimes we call you dirt!),
unseeable mineral source of life.
Somehow we all return to you, rely on you,
home of bugs and grubs and creepers,
lichen and moss and old stuff and new,
life forms of tomorrow, and ancient ones,
forming themselves like clay within you,
spontaneously whirling into being,
source and resource, first place and last.



Annelinde Metzner
July 1990 from "Voices of Gaia"

 

The darkness

Coming together here, we warm each other’s hearts in the darkness.

The Sun, far away, yearns to embrace us in Her warmth once again.

But this is our time to journey into the depths of the darkness.

This is the time to surrender and listen deep to our souls.

This is the time to close our eyes, slow down and be lulled by the darkness.

Our blessed Mother Gaia dwells within the darkness.

Inhale the song of Her soul, Her soil, Her dark caves, Her rich dark humus.

Mother Earth welcomes you into the darkness.

Walk with confidence, all people, walk safely into the darkness.

Let us love the night, the moon, the stars, the planets, the Seven Sisters high above.

Revel in this other half of our lives, the darkness.

The beauty of the dark earth, the darkness of skin, the dark curves of mountain roads,

The Seven Sister Mountains in their powerful darkness, presiding over Black Mountain,

Our dark blood, our Earth, our deepest selves, the darkness.


Annelinde Metzner
November 16, 2010



Listen to Annelinde in a reading of "The darkness."  This poem has been read responsively in church services at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of the Swannanoa Valley.

The Seven Sisters over Black Mountain

Be Water

Here is the gift of these magical days:  water, water.
You!  Be water!
This water is clear.  Swim in it!
Float in it!   Breathe water!
You!  Water is our element,
the place we live, the air we breathe.
Touch me, bathe me,
rock me, cradle me.
There is nothing to separate us.
No walls.
Nothing holds us back,
for we are Water!



Annelinde Metzner
Meher Baba Center,  South Carolina

My musical setting of the poem "Be Water" will premiere at our concert on February 24th, "Lady of Ten Thousand Names," at White Horse Black Mountain.   It will be sung by Stephanie Heidemann with myself at the piano.

Songs of Love

For Valentine's Day, Annelinde is changing formats a bit in order to acquaint readers with my Custom Song service.   I am posting two sample songs from four happy clients who were and still are very much in love.    I can compose songs for all types of love-   familial, romantic, personal, spiritual.   Send me your ideas and I will turn them into beautiful, unforgettable lyrics.

      Deb and Robert always got a chuckle about how different they are, and yet their union has grown and thrived throughout all the years.   I composed this song for their anniversary, which they celebrated in their beloved Colorado mountains (the dog is admiring the view.)


ALL ROADS LEAD TO YOU        
Words and music by Annelinde Metzner   c. 2005 

VERSE I
You're Vermont and I'm Indiana.  I like to holler;  you like to banter, 
But anyway, ALL ROADS LEAD TO YOU.
You say to-mah-to, I say ta-may-ter, 
But I'm gonna getcha sooner or later.
What can I do?   ALL ROADS LEAD TO YOU.

You see things your way, and I see them mine,
But as long as you're with me, that is just fine.
I'm a new man, whenever I'm with you, honeydew.

I found you marchin' and carryin' a sign.  
You found me drinkin' whiskey and wine, 
But to heck with all that.   ALL ROADS LEAD TO YOU. 


Listen to Tom Hendricks singing "All Roads Lead to You,"  composed by Annelinde Metzner for the wedding anniversary of Deb and Robert.

Deb, Robert and dog admiring view

TO ORDER YOUR OWN CUSTOM SONG OF LOVE, OR A SONG FOR ANY OCCASION, 
EMAIL ANNELINDEMETZNER@GMAIL.COM   OR    CALL 828-712-6745




Annellinde-  I can’t thank you enough for the time, energy, love and light that I know you gave to Clement’s Wedding Homily.
       So glad I joined Womansong and learned of you and your talents.  I am BLESSED to know you... your spirit and joy give so much to others!             Nita Walker







For Jan's wedding proposal to Beth, Annelinde composed three verses for Jan to sing and play on guitar, along with a piano accompaniment.   
     Enjoy the surprise marriage proposal which Jan gave to Beth at a rehearsal of our Asheville women's chorus, Womansong.

Jan and Beth

TIMING IS EVERYTHING     
Words and music by Annelinde Metzner    c. 2011

VERSE I:
You know how much I love you, despite all the complications.
It was all in the timing!  We knew it from the start.
I just know that I love you, and it's always been that way,
And I want to marry you, marry you, marry you.
You know, TIMING IS EVERYTHING, when you love this way.


We cannot begin to express how much our song, “Timing is Everything,’ has meant to us.  Spirit led me to you when asking if you could help me “birth” the song and without a doubt it was one of the best decisions of my life.  The song is perfect, and we love you so much for gifting it to us.  It is one of those things we will never forget.
     With great love and gratitude for the blessing of you in our lives,  Jan and Beth



TO ORDER YOUR OWN CUSTOM SONG OF LOVE, OR A SONG FOR ANY OCCASION, 
EMAIL ANNELINDEMETZNER@GMAIL.COM   OR    CALL 828-712-6745

Tell a Woman

One billion women rising

Tell a woman that, deep inside,
deep in her heart, where no one can see,
she holds the flame that lights the world.

Tell a woman that no one can ever extinguish that flame.
Not anyone,  be he bigger than her, stronger than her, faster than her,
angrier than her, drunker than her, more convinced he is right.

This flame is our secret, all women’s.  We are born with it.
With this flame, within our hearts, we work two jobs while raising three kids.
And we give them piano lessons.
With this flame, we cross oceans
so our children can grow up strong without stigma.
With this flame, we nurse our elders, and our young ones too,
often at the same time, keeping an eye on bill payments,
scrounging for food and rent.

Tell a woman she has a huge bright flame ready to flare up in her heart,
and she’s not alone.   We all have one,
we who walk tall, and we who are under the thumb,
we who speak here now, and we who have been silenced,
we all share this flame, it’s an eternal flame,
it’s hot, and it’s brilliant, and it never goes away.

Tell a woman, this is our birthright, this is who we are,
we, the women, the people of the womb,
who carry the world, who yearn for love and honor,
who, somewhere deep inside, will never be denied, will never give in.
Tell a woman, this is who we are, all of us aflame, all of us women,
all of us carrying that precious fire
that guides our days, that reminds us of what this life really means,
that shows us its light and tells us how to move,
how to be, how to turn, how to love each day.

Tell a woman, she has a pure flame deep in her heart
that can never be extinguished, that cannot be pushed under,
that can never be broken, that does not bleed away,
that cannot be raped or beaten down,
that can only rise higher, that flares up within us,
and with each step brightens, and lights our way,
brighter and brighter, as we see our flames
more clearly, more loudly, more assuredly, more proudly,
all of us gazing at that brand new day,
not much longer now, just on the horizon,
when we look at a woman and know,
with her light, she leads the way.





Annelinde Metzner
January 25, 2013



"One Billion Rising"
          In conjunction with its 15th anniversary, V-Day, a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls, launched its most ambitious campaign to date -         ONE BILLION RISING. The concept of the campaign is simple. If you take into account the statistic that 1 out of 3 women will experience violence in her lifetime, you are left with the staggering statistic that over 1 billion women on this planet will be impacted by violence. On V-Day's 15th Anniversary, 2.14.13, V-Day is inviting ONE BILLION women and those who love them to WALK OUT, DANCE, RISE UP, and DEMAND an end to this violence. V-Day wants the world to see our collective strength, our numbers, our solidarity across borders.


Watch as Alice Walker explains the beauty of dancing for One Billion Rising.  Look for an event in your community on Valentine's Day, February 14, 2013.  

 

Thank you, Hillary

Hillary Clinton in Ireland, September 2012

A deep relaxation, an exhalation, a gratefulness,
knowing you have been there to represent us,
you, so much a woman, the mother of a woman,
the daughter of a woman, one of us.
Hillary, you inspired us, with your bravery, your clarity,
your firmness, your discernment on the world’s stage.
High up in the echelons, you represented us.  Thank you.
Traveling, traveling, in ease and in strain,
you spoke of Malala and Inez, all our brave women,
at one with our great community, this world.
Hillary, without fear, you went feet first
to the most dangerous places in the world.
Yes, we share your pain, our pain,
we born with a womb, our badge of courage,
our births that say the way will be rough,
the climb uphill all our lives.
We born with a womb, and from a womb,
our daughters, our mothers and ourselves,
know from birth that we must be strong,
we must know our minds and love our bodies,
we must speak for ourselves when our Hillaries are gone,
remembering her and teaching ourselves,
going on, for their sake, for Malala and Wangari,
for all the women who show the way,
to live strong and free, to move as we choose,
to be what we are, to be.

Annelinde Metzner



Click here for an article in the Huffington Post about Hillary's future as a presidential candidate in 2016.  One former aide says, "Never say never."

 

 

The sheer lace curtain

Photo by Ann Laudati

Icy white curves of pure sunshine
come through the white lace curtain
surprised, as if the Sun
had tumbled into a clothes dryer
full of lace undies.
I can’t fully see the day,
She is so veiled, so disguised
in honeycombs of lace,
lace petals of flowers,
filigrees and tendrils,
flirtatious as flickering flame
even though the glass is frozen.
It’s twenty degrees today, even at the beach,
January. A world white as lace,
and hiding something too, maybe hiding a year,
a whole new year, a brand new number,
the world not quite discernible
beyond the sheer lace curtain,
January delicate and lovely, thin as lace.
The Sun, as bright as He can be,
happily cascading into white roses of lace,
caught in time, in January’s sheer wonderment,
the unknowing, the promise of the future,
beyond somewhere, waiting.

Annelinde Metzner     
January 17, 2009

January beach

New Year's Gathering

Candle circle at Hawkscry, New Year's 2012

         “Come, come, whoever you are,
          wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving.”
 
We come New Year’s day, to Sandy Mush,
that Shangri-la, quiet always, but quieter still, this January day,
the rapeseed fields lying fallow, waiting for Spring’s yellow,
the old dogs and the old farmers beside their wood stoves.

         “Ours is no caravan of despair.”
 
And it isn’t!   Many old friends, one behind the other
to get there for sharing warm food and warm regards,
to share births, deaths, all the new, all the new.
The caravan shifts on the leaf-layered road,
and one tire goes ‘way out over the abyss.
“Stop the car!” and everyone hops out.
What to do?  But a neighbor has a come-along.
This has gone on before, so many times before,
at the end of a long dirt road, where we are our own future,
it’s only us, and what we can do,
stuck on the road in winter.
Twenty arms and hands, a dozen brains
ponder and work, trying this and that,
pulling here and tugging there,
until, voila!  the van is free with its big load,
a wheelchair and four eager passengers.
We’re free!

            “Come yet again, come!”  
   
Arriving up at the top of the road,
laden with food and one more good story,
we eat, hug, regale and gather around the flames, lighting candles for the world,
for our futures and all peoples’, 
for making it one more day in this body.
Out to the woods to dance beneath the grey, bare trees,
for Allah, for God, for the Goddess,
and to remember, as grey winter clouds lumber gloriously across the sky,
we are all here together in this.
We are all one.

          "Come, come, whoever you are,
           come, yet again, come."       (Jelaluddin Rumi)


Annelinde Metzner 
Hawkscry    
January 4, 2012


Many thanks to William and Jane Stanhope for sharing their beautiful land in Sandy Mush, North Carolina for my writing, my spirit and my peace of mind.  


Listen to Annelinde reading "New Year's Gathering" here.
 

Many brains, strong backs and a come-along.