The iris' are exquisite this year, especially these yellow ones!
Just after my surgery, when I was 'confined' to doing almost nothing but reading, I embarked on a reading/writing journey. Ranier Maria Rilke (1875-1926), who has for many years been my favorite poet, newly inspired me. (I realize that there are not many people who even like poetry, much less have a favorite poet.) I do not have all of his work, but I do own a significant amount of his writings. I can distinctly recall the very first time I read him, and how I was rendered almost speechless at his words. I was deeply torn as well, between reverence and jealousy that his words were not my own.
On Rilke
I can barely imagine his writing room
dark desk, dim light
dark young man…
bent heavy with love
and intensity
penning words
that preceded me by decades
yet seem to be mine.
I read with a devout awe
and a stinging jealousy…
and think that now, having been said,
I cannot drag these words
up from my own anguished soul.
They were taken from me
before I even was…
both riveted
and torn,
grateful and distraught
honoring yet coveting
I know these were my words,
these were my aching soul in Rilke’s tortured web of love
and he pulled them out one deep night
set them down
lifted them up into the holy mist
and I down these many years
anointed by such grace
wander and search and wonder
what words are left for me?
Joanne Adragna Shird
January 1, 2011
Among the works I own are translations by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows, who in my estimation are the finest of Rilke translators. One of the books is called A Year With Rilke: Daily Readings from the Best of Rainer Maria Rilke. As I was reading the daily entry, a niggling began inside, my thought was that I would read each entry daily (but also the day/evening before so that would peculate in me) and each day write something of my own inspired by his work. I began this journey on February 16, my first poem, and continue to this day. You might say it has become somewhat of an obsession.
The point of this post has to do with the reading for today, entitled by Macy and Barrows (Rilke didn't title most of his work) 'Earth, Isn't This What You Want'. This entry is a portion of a poem from the Duino Elegies, specifically the Ninth Elegy. It is really a 'love song' to the earth, and I find it one of his most beautiful works. In almost everyone of his poems I find one or two lines that I actually covet, wish with all my heart it hadn't been said, so I could pull it out of myself and set it down in words. In this 'love song' Rilke's line spoken to the earth was, "Before I was named I belonged to you." This resonated deeply with me, and as I continued to read and reread this entry in preparation for writing my own, I felt a swelling, a fullness emphasized by what was outside my window, what was in the garden I just stepped out of, and by the fruits of the earth I was holding as I prepared dinner.
I fear this may sound a bit odd to many, but I knew the connection between the earth and myself. I felt how it nourished me not just by giving me the food I was preparing but by the very rhythms of growth and decline.
Although I mostly prepare food with deep love and gratitude, I was so filled with Rilke's anthem to the earth that this meal's preparation seemed more holy to me.
One of my childhood favorite meals was called Chicken Oregano, and I have, over the years taken liberties with what goes on the roasting pan.
...organic chicken and potatoes, my own peppers and asparagus, organic carrots and onions...
Generally any fresh vegetable, especially straight from the garden, will do for this dish.
Assemble the marinade (recipe follows). Slather it generously over the chicken and place on a pan, slather more, and roast at 370 degrees for about 25 minutes. Meanwhile in a bowl toss the cut up vegetables (not asparagus) with more of the marinade. Add the potatoes, onions and carrots to the pan, making sure they are brushed with the oil/lemon juice mixture. After about 15 minutes add the asparagus, and continue roasting until vegetables are done and chicken registers 195 degrees and is crispy.
Recipe for the marinade:
*1/3 c. good olive oil
*1/4 c. lemon juice
*one large garlic clove chopped
*2 tsp. dried oregano
*salt/pepper to taste
I never lost sight of the interconnection with the earth during this meal, Rilke stayed with me, as he does today.
So much akin to you
dear Earth, am I,
nothing of yours is foreign
and I grow out of you,
perhaps not with the beauty
of a flower
but surely like the knobby
tree just outside my window.
There is nothing of me
that you have not made
or touched, or helped to grow.
You circle me with your rhythms
and the breath of those
that came before me.
There is nothing,
that I do not owe to you.
I am your celebration,
one thread
in this dense tapestry
of life.
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