Loading ...
The McGlynnMary O’Leary McGlinn
Brother Ed Elected To The Hall Of Fame, Anglers Of The AuSable
Friday, May 11th, 2007
To Ed From his sister Mary
A River Runs Through Him
You will not see him often, now,
Wading into his beloved Holy Waters.
Fly casting can be difficult, sometimes, for older bones.
You will not see him often, now,
But he is there.
You will not say, late some evening,
As you hear the water move so slightly and the line snap so quietly,
“That must be him.”
You will not say that often, now,
But he is there.
When you see a glistening Brown trout rise, in his wildness, to a caddis hatch,
When you walk into the cool river water on a hot Summer day,
And the beauty of it all catches your breath,
When you rest on a river rock in the deep dark and silence of a moonless night,
And you know the prehistoric life surrounding you,
This fisher,
this Riverwatch founder and editor,
this honored Riverkeeper,
this protector of the river and all its creatures,
this lover of the Au Sable
is there.
Mary Oleary-McGlinn
In the spirit of this season, celebrating the sacredness of family, we offer a poem in honor of parents throughout the world: parents of every race, parents of every creed and those without, parents of every country, and, most especially, those parents who are now struggling against all odds to care for and protect their children.
MY FATHER MADE BRACELETS
I can see him now, sitting in the cellar,
In front of the flame of the coal furnace.
He would take the strips of stainless steel
And hold them over the flame until they were heated through.
These strips of steel he brought home from the bomber plant,
No doubt, the leavings of some machine die work,
Would become in his hands shiny interweavings of adornment;
Some so delicate we feared they would break,
Others, thick and heavy and beautiful in their boldness.
I would watch him, excited at the thought
That I would wear such lovely bangles;
That I would wear bracelets my Father made for me.
He made so many, all perfect in their twists and turns.
For years, I would wear five or six on my arm.
Strangers would ask me where I had bought them.
With pride, I would say “My Father made them for me.”
Now, when I think of him, I wonder how it occurred to him
To make bracelets for his daughter from left-over
Steel strips he found as he labored far away at a bomber plant,
The only job he could find in the depressed days of ‘43.
Was he thinking of me one day as he performed
His daily duties of rote and boredom?
Did he see the shiny strips of steel and think of me,
His only daughter who did not have any bracelets?
That he could envision something made from
The shiny strips of steel is not surprising.
My Father could make something out of nothing,
Could fix anything that was worn or broken.
But that he thought of me as he went through
His work-day so far away from all of us,
That is what moves me even now,
So many years after the deep mourning of his passing.
We didn’t have many material goods in those days.
We always had enough food, and simple clothes,
And we had something much more treasured than wealth.
We had a family of four sons, one daughter, a Mother who comforted,
And a Father who made bracelets.
I gave some of the bracelets to my best friends;
In later years, some to my daughters.
Eventually, some did break from years of wear.
I have only one now. It never leaves my wrist.
It is my lovely, treasured talisman from my Father.
Mary O’Leary McGlinn
HUBRIS
Now, tell me, again, what did our President say
as he ended his review of the war in Afghanistan?
Did our President say, “I am going to finish the job.”?
“I am going to finish the job.” just “I” as in “I, the decider”?
just “I,” not “we,” not “our brave soldiers,” not “our allies,” not “the congress”?
“I am going to finish the job.” Did our President say that?
Tell me, again, what did our President say?
Did he say, “I am going to finish the job.”
“finish” as in “to successfully complete,” “finish” as in “to accomplish”?
“finish,” as in “to win,” not “to re-think,” not “to change direction,” not “to bring to an end”?
“I am going to finish the job.” Did our President say that?
Tell me, again, what did our President say?
Did he say, “I am going to finish the job“?
“the job” as in “a definite piece of work,” “the job” as in a “certain mission”?
“the job” as in “the bombing, the killing, the dying,”?
“the job” as in “that which we began eight years ago”?
“the job” as in his “war of necessity”?
“I am going to finish the job.” Did our President say that?
Tell me again, what did our President, Barack Obama, say
as he ended his review of the mess in Afghanistan?
“I am going to finish the job.”
hubris, as in “arrogance resulting from excessive pride which goes before the fall”
Mary O’Leary McGlinn
Family Christmas
I have often thought of the meaningfulness and the beauty of the iconic image of Christmas: the family in the manger. I do not think it is by accident that the story of Christmas will forever be told in the frame of the family. Indeed, I think the family is the true sacred and spiritual touchstone of humanity. The family, not just in the lovely but sometimes limited sense of a mother, a father, and a child, but the family as in the human family, humans joining together in various forms to help and love one another and to care for and protect our young.
MacLeish said it best, although he was hampered in his choice of words by the consciousness of the time of his writing. You will excuse me if I paraphrase the ending of his beautiful essay that he wrote upon seeing the photo of our planet taken by Apollo 8.
“To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the earth together, brothers and sisters on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold, brothers and sisters who know now they are truly one family.”
The Mothers of Iraq
On this Mother’s Day, I think of the Mothers of Iraq,
Venturing out in the soft, waning hours of the afternoon
To the market for food for their children,
And bringing home the sights, and smells, and fears of the destruction of their city.
On this Mother’s Day, I think of the Mothers of Iraq,
Cringing with fright as they hear our President boast,
“We will fight them on the streets of Baghdad,
So we will not have to fight them here.”
On this Mother’s Day, I think of the Mothers of Iraq,
Covering the broken and bloody arms,
And legs, and heads of their wounded children
With their black veils of sorrow.
On this Mother’s Day, I think of the Mothers of Iraq,
Wailing and weeping over their lost, dead children,
And I weep with them,
And beg their forgiveness for allowing this to happen.
Mary Oleary-McGlynn
MICHIGAN METAMORPHOSIS
An Easter Greeting
Will Spring Come
Our Children In Gaza
OUR CHILDREN ARE DYING IN GAZA
Our children are dying on their neighborhood streets in Gaza.
Our children are being bombed in their homes and in their schools in Gaza.
Our children are screaming in pain in hospitals, denied the means to soothe and heal in Gaza.
Our children are suffering from an occupation-imposed lack of food and water in Gaza.
Our children are being stripped of the joy, laughter, and sweet memories of childhood in Gaza.
Our children are crying out for help in Gaza.
Our children are asking us, “what have we done to deserve this punishment?”
What do we say to our children in Gaza?
TORTURE AMERICA
TORTURE AMERICA
It’s not going to go away,
However much you might want it to.
It’s not going to go away,
the acts of sexual humiliation, the “stress positions,” the “walling,”
the months, years of solitary confinement, the “waterboarding,”
the photos of the pyramid of naked bodies, the wired, hooded man on a box,
the man cowering from an attacking dog, the man dragged by a leash,
These are not going to go away.
the attempts to legalize, the Geneva Conventions deemed “quaint,”
“if it does not result in serious physical injury,” “organ failure,” “death,”
the lies of Condoleeza Rice, “the United States does not engage in torture,”
the lies of Donald Rumsfeld, “a few bad apples,”
the lies of George W. Bush, “We do not torture.”
These are not going to go away.
the torture testimonies of prisoners negating fair trials,
the calls for accountability from institutions and persons of integrity
are not going to go away.
Oh, yes, we know, we know,
We face so many problems right now.
Many of those you will address and some will be solved
Through your brilliance and commitment.
But this, this will not be solved, and this will not go away;
This destruction of our reputation as a nation of laws,
These sickening, heinous, inhuman acts done in your name and our names,
This criminal betrayal of America,
This is not going to go away.
INVESTIGATE, INDICT, IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE, IN THE NAME OF AMERICA
Mary O’Leary McGlinn
*
Winter, Still
OUR DANGEROUS TERRORIST
Look at him, if you can: our prisoner, our dangerous terrorist.
He sits there on the hot, barren ground,
Hooded, unable to see his world,
Surrounded by barbed wire to keep us safe.
Look at him, our prisoner, our dangerous terrorist.
In his hooded darkness, his hand caresses the flushed forehead of a small child,
His arm embraces this child, holding him close to his chest.
Look at the child’s small bare feet; look at his eyes closed against the glare of his world.
Look at him, our prisoner, our dangerous terrorist.
What words of comfort is he saying to this small child?
What is the child saying to his protector?
Look, his mouth is open. Is he moaning? Is he crying?
Look at him, our prisoner, our dangerous terrorist.
He sits there on the hot, barren ground.
He feels this small child next to him, breathing heavily in the hot sun.
Our terrorist is hooded but he is not blind; he will remember this world.
Look at him, if you can: our prisoner, our dangerous terrorist.
He embraces this small child. Do we?
He protects this small child. Do we?
He loves this small child. Do we?
Who, then, is the terrorist?
Is he? Am I? Are you?
Mary O’Leary-McGlinn
Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam, circum spice. (1)
PENINSULA PEACE
(An ode to July in Michigan)
Time and time again, I have found peace here at this lovely inland lake
On this beautiful peninsula in Michigan:
Peace as comforting as the early morning sun warming
The waiting lake;
Peace as sweet as almost-forgotten scents of earth, woods, leaves, life released
By the soaking Summer rain;
Peace as soothing as the movement of white wisps of clouds, slow-dancing
Across a vast expanse of blue;
Peace as calming as the lake at twilight,
Quiet, still, serene;
Peace as deep as the infinite, star-studded
Northern night sky;
Peace as loving as the full golden moon laying down a path of
Soft light across the gently rippling night water.
Oh, to be able to keep this peace as a mystical memento
Of a Leelanau retreat,
To bring it home as a spiritual shield against
The city glare and noise
Until, returning north, I am made new once again by
The peace of this peninsula..
Mary Oleary-McGlinn
(1) If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you.
State Motto of Michigan
I Want My Country Back
I want my country back,
The one that doesn’t spend its treasure on death, destruction, and endless war,
While ignoring the needs of its citizens, its poor, its children.
The one that doesn’t torture its captives,
That doesn’t imprison them for years without charging them with any crime.
I want my country back,
The one whose government does not reward the wealthy few
At the expense of the common good,
The one that doesn’t spy on its citizens without warrant,
The one whose leaders do not lie to cover up their illegal actions.
I want my country back,
The one whose president and vice-president do not promulgate fear to
Silence and dis-empower their fellow citizens,
The one whose president and vice-president do not put themselves above our laws,
Whose president and vice-president do not attack and degrade our Constitution.
I want my country back,
The one that has attempted to live up to its ideals:
The country of the abolitionist movement to free our slaves,
The country of the labor movement to ensure the rights of workers to organize,
The country of the feminist movement to address the inequalities suffered by women,
The country of the civil rights movement to secure the rights of black Americans,
The country of the anti-war movement to stop the madness of the Vietnam war,
The country that has existed in the hearts and minds of millions of Americans,
As they have struggled to make it a place of justice for all.
I want that country back.
These men, Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Gonzales,
Surely, they are not the rightful leaders of such a country.
Surely, they are a mistake, an aberration.
These men and those who do their bidding
Are small people: small in vision, in compassion, in intellect.
They are arrogant, incompetent, and corrupt ideologues.
They do not understand the values of our democratic way of life,
They do not honor our Constitution.
We must take our country back from these who would subvert our democracy.
It is now our turn to take up the struggle for a just and honorable America..
It is now our task to take our country back.
Mary Oleary-McGlinn
The Possibility of a New Beginning
I see him standing there in the bright January sun, this tall, slim American, born of Kansas and Kenya,
This graduate of Harvard, this teacher of constitutional law, this community organizer, this respected author, this Senator from Illinois.
I see him standing there, vowing to “preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
I see him standing there, now with the accomplished, eloquent Michelle,
Their two young daughters sparkling by their side.
I see this American family whom we have made our own.
I see him step to the podium, looking out over the gathered throng of his fellow citizens.
I hear him, his voice sure and strong, with the cadence of King,
His words soaring over our Capitol, our country, our world.
“. . . So, now, let us begin a new chapter in our country’s history.
Together, young and old, black and white, Native Americans, Hispanic and Asian Americans, Arab Americans, Americans from every region of our country–together, let us work to redeem and renew the promise of America for all of our citizens, let us help heal the wounds of the peoples of the world, and let us lead the sacred effort to repair and preserve our precious planet.
There will be times when our mission will seem too difficult; at times, impossible. There will be struggle, set-backs, and sacrifice. But keeping our faith in one another and in the good we pursue, we will overcome the obstacles that lie ahead.
Together, we cannot fail.
Let us begin.”
I see a hopeful America on this bright Winter day in the year 2009 seeing and hearing her new President.
I see those struggling against discrimination, poverty, and fear here in America and around the world
Seeing and hearing him.
I see the young men and women of America, in love again with the possibility of America and their place in that America,
Seeing and hearing him.
I see black American girls and boys, bursting with pride and renewed purpose,
Seeing and hearing him.
I see all of us who have been heart-sick and outraged at the damage done to our
country and the world during the last eight years
Seeing and hearing him.
I see a young Muslim boy, a student in a Saudi Arabian madrasa,
Seeing and hearing him.
I see all and each of these and more, so many more, seeing and hearing
Barack Hussein Obama, the 44th President of the United States of America.
And I see the possibility of a new beginning.
Mary O’Leary McGlinn
WE ARE THE ONES WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR
And who will join this standing up
and the ones who stood without sweet company
will sing and sing
back into the mountains and
if necessary
even under the sea.
We are the ones we have been waiting for.
Poem for South African Women
June Jordan (1)
WE ARE THE ONES WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR
We are the ones, young men and women of America,
Longing to believe again in the goodness of America
And eager to contribute to a renewed America.
We are the ones, Republicans, Democrats, Independents,
Americans all, outraged at the assaults on our liberties,
Our values, our Constitution by the Bush-Cheney administration.
We are the ones, Americans of every race, color, creed,
Who no longer will be pitted against each other
For the politician’s gain, our country’s loss, and our own detriment.
We are the ones, Americans, fortunate in our wealth and comfort,
Wanting to give for the welfare of those Americans less fortunate,
Believing in the worth and righteousness of the Common Good.
We are the ones, Americans of all political parties and persuasions,
Who can see past our legitimate and strongly-held policy differences,
To a way of honorable compromise for solutions to our country’s problems.
We are the ones, Americans who will redeem the promise of America
For all of our citizens, the young, the old, the disenfranchised, the poor,
And for those who yearn to become part of us, our immigrants.
We are the ones,
Americans who wish to be a force for peace and goodwill among nations,
Rather than a nihilistic agent of death, destruction, and chaos.
Americans who wish to promote understanding and respect between peoples
Rather than distrust, hate, fear, and conflict.
Americans who wish to help alleviate the suffering of the peoples of the world,
Who see all children as our children, all women as sisters, all men as brothers.
Americans who understand that we are all one people of our planet Earth.
We are the ones we have been waiting for.
Mary Oleary-McGlinn
(1) From Passion:New Poems, 1977-80 by June Jordan
**********
