Election Day
Tunes for a Monday Evening

Thoughts on the morning after

Woodland hound

Stay centred. Stay calm. It's going to be a long week. As the US thrashes out the election, and the UK prepares for another long lockdown, the wild world is still around us...and art...and beauty...and mystery. Kindness matters more than ever.

"To open our eyes, to see with our inner fire and light, is what saves us," says Chickasaw poet and novelist Linda Hogan. "Even if it makes us vulnerable. Opening the eyes is the job of storytellers, witnesses, and the keepers of accounts. The stories we know and tell are reservoirs of light and fire that brighten and illuminate the darkness of human night, the unseen."

Stay safe. Stay strong.

Woodland hound 2


Thank you for this, Terri. Breathing, meditating, & watching leaves falling with my cat here in Seattle.

Once again — thank you.
Focusing on deep breaths in Santa Fe, New Mexico; your post helps.

Dear Terri I am watching the US elections from my home in south eastern Australia and wishing for the best outcome for all in the USA and for others of us outside. This must be a hard thing to watch for you, so much love and thanks to you for your blog, which has made me happy and fascinated me through this difficult year.

During this long, agonizing wait, the sayings of this post are so important. And I love the idea , by Linda Hogan, "To open our eyes, to see with our inner fire and light". That is what will sustain and propel his toward more hope and more strength.

Here in the high desert of Southern California, it is temperate outside; and the sunshine spread over the sky is inconsistent with the pall of uncertainty that hangs over us. Yet, as the day progresses toward evening, I remember a painting and artist friend of mine completed several years ago called "A Tender Autumn Evening". And the, title alone, reminds me of how we must look inward and summon our compassion, our sense of kindness and empathy toward each other and others.

The imagery of her painting led to these thoughts;
Often when we forget our humanity, nature remembers our soul by mirroring what steps or action must be taken to reclaim it. We then need to reconnect with the elements and the natural spirit of wisdom they convey. In this poem, nature is reminding us that we need to be kind and compassionate (toward her species as well as our own peers) in a season of chill and isolation. The wind is personified as a gentle woman from a different time, an older time when candle lamps lit the house and humanity took long moments to reflect intensely on the world and those in need. In such times, The "now" of the past becomes the "now" of the present hoping to impress upon us ( in a society caught up in derision, suspicion and deep, political turmoil ) what really matters and makes a difference.

Approaching Evening

..there’s now, and now,
and the wind in the grass.
Archibald Macleash

The sun flickers
through an overcast sky, a candle flame
through slits of tin An antique lamp

from another time; and that time is now
remembered in a dusk
early afternoon . Quiet & quaint

the wind bends in her humid skirts
to feed mourning doves settled
under the pines. Bits of seed and thistle

fall from her hand. What's left
from her wild stock
of molted and migrating things. Her small cache

given in kindness with light cast
on what Kindness sheds
in the coming of winter. In the deadened hours
when nothing is really dead
only forgotten.

Take care everyone and let us be driven by our inner light, kindness and wisdom.


Thank you for providing us with this sanctuary. This blog is a resource and a refuge that makes such a difference, especially at times like this. Thank you for your generosity.

Beautiful poem, Wendy. And as always, thank you for reminding us, Terri, to be rooted in the things that last. ~ Sidney

There Is Light

Piercing the thin horizon,
creeping tentatively over mountains,
shimmering through the rough, shorn
November branches.

I cup my hands and fill them with the light.
It tastes like apples, like cider,
like new growth in my mouth.
Tomorrow cannot come soon enough
when the orchard will once again be in bloom.
When canticles of light show every path,
and every heart is full of it.

For Joe and Kamala

©2020 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

Hi Sidney

Thank you so much for reading my poem and commenting. I deeply appreciate~

My Best

Hi Jane

Tomorrow cannot come soon enough
when the orchard will once again be in bloom.
When canticles of light show every path,
and every heart is full of it.

Beautiful and hopeful poem --and yes there is a new morning coming in America. The light is
falling into our souls and our hearts. Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful piece, it echoes the optimism so many of us feel and have needed!!

Wendy--check spelling of Archibald MacLeish.
He was a neighbor of ours back when we lived in Conway MA. I was too in awe (and too young
in my writing) to knock on his door.


Hi Jane

You're right on target with the spelling of his name. Thanks so much for the correction. I appreciate it. And Wow, to live next door to this wonderful poet. I can deeply understand why you would have been too much in awe. That would have been my reaction too!!!

Thanks again
My best to you and yours!!

Stay well and be safe,

Wendy: Not a right-next-door neighbor, but a down-the-same-block in an enclave neighbor which was quite guarded from prols like me to go knocking on the door. Plus I was in my twenties with a baby and barely published. ANS HE WAS ...WELL....MACLEISH.

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