Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Monday, June 29, 2020

THE WISDOM OF A MAD FARMER

Spears Road, Anderson County, South Carolina

There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places and desecrated places.

Wendell Berry

I rise early each morning, take a quick shower, feed our dog, grab a large cup of dark roast, and then set out with my binoculars and camera to discover that is unfolding on the rural backroads of upstate South Carolina. While I never know what to expect, experience has taught me that something extraordinary and beautiful will likely come my way, and whatever it is, it will surely be more satisfying that the political news of the day.

As I move from towns to farm roads, I'm often thinking about one of my favorite writers, the poet, essayist, and passionate environmentalist, Wendell Berry.  Through his poems and essays, as well as myriad speeches and interviews, Berry has given me better eyes to see and understand the natural world.  More importantly, perhaps, he has continued to remind me of how much we are threatened by corporate agriculture, a mechanistic economy, and a modern culture that is more concerned with consumption and convenience that it is with protecting the health of the planet.

One of my favorite Berry poems is Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front. Set forth below, it offers some sensible advice on how to live on the earth with a sense of integrity, purpose, and responsibility.  Just one note of caution:  When you read the words "praise ignorance," do not hastily conclude that Berry is opposed to education.  He is simply reminding us that a good education should come with an understanding of man's historic inclination to eventually destroy or corrupt everything he discovers.


Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
By Wendell Berry

                                     Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
                                     vacation with pay.  Want more
                                     of everything ready-made.  Be afraid
                                     to know your neighbors and to die.
                                     And you will have a window in your head.
                                     Not even your future will be a mystery 
                                     any more.  Your mind will be punched in a card
                                     and shut away in a little drawer.
                                     When they want you to buy something
                                     they will call you.  When they want you 
                                     to die for profit they will let you know.

                                     So, friends, every day do something
                                     that won't compute.  Love the Lord.
                                     Love the world.  Work for nothing.
                                     Take all that you have and be poor.
                                     Love someone who does not deserve it.
                                     Denounce the government and embrace
                                     the flag.  Hope to live in that free
                                     republic for which it stands.
                                     Give your approval to all you cannot
                                     understand.  Praise ignorance, for what man               
                                     has not encountered he has not destroyed.

                                     Ask the questions that have no answers.

                                     Invest in the millennium.  Plant sequoias.
                                     Say that your main crop is the forest
                                     that you did not plant,
                                     that you will not live to harvest.
                                     Say that the leaves are harvested
                                     when they have rotted into the mold.
                                     Call that profit.  Prophesy such returns.

                                     Put your faith in the two inches of humus

                                     that will build under the trees
                                     every thousand years.
                                     Listen to carrion — put your ear 
                                     close, and hear the faint chattering 
                                     of the songs that are to come.
                                     Expect the end of the world.  Laugh.
                                     Laughter is immeasurable.  Be joyful
                                     though you have considered all the facts.
                                     So long as women do not go cheap
                                     for power, please women more than men.
                                     Ask yourself:  Will this satisfy
                                     a woman satisfied to bear a child?
                                     Will this disturb the sleep
                                     of a woman near to giving birth?

                                     Go with your love to the fields.

                                     Lie down in the shade.  Rest your head
                                     in her lap.  Swear allegiance
                                     to what is highest in your thoughts.
                                     As soon as the generals and the politicos 
                                     can predict the motions of your mind,
                                     lose it.  Leave it as a sign
                                     to mark the false trail, the way
                                     you didn't go.  Be like the fox
                                     who makes more tracks than necessary,
                                     some in the wrong direction.
                                     Practice resurrection.

Sunday, June 14, 2020

HOW TO SEE DEER (AND PERHAPS OTHER THINGS)

Whitetail Deer

I was reminded once again this morning that one does not need to travel far to be transformed by the beauty of nature.  As I stepped through the back door of my home just after sunrise, I was immediately greeted by a young doe standing on the edge our yard, gorgeously framed by butterfly bushes, bee balm, and one of my treasured birdhouses.

Hardly a day goes by without my seeing five to fifteen deer on our property.  They graze and frolic in the pasture; they sleep on the soft ivy ground cover that borders a small stream; and they take special delight in laying waste to our vegetable garden and fruit trees.  

As I observed the doe this morning, however, I was not simply taking notice of another deer.  I was really trying to see the uniqueness of this particular deer in a very special, transitory moment of my life.  Without belaboring the point, I will just say that I agree with what Philip Booth wrote in his poem, "How to See Deer."  In short, we must learn to wait without waiting, to be careless of nothing, and, above all, to truly see what we think we are "seeing." 


HOW TO SEE DEER
By Philip Booth (1925 - 2007)

                                                Forget roadside crossings.
                                                Go nowhere with guns.
                                                Go elsewhere your own way,

                                                lonely and wanting. Or
                                                stay and be early:
                                                next to deep woods

                                                inhabit old orchards.
                                                All clearings promise.
                                                Sunrise is good,

                                                and fog before sun.
                                                Expect nothing always;
                                                find your luck slowly.

                                                Wait out the windfall.
                                                Take your good time
                                                to learn to read ferns;

                                                make like a turtle:
                                                downhill toward slow water.
                                                Instructed by heron,

                                                drink the pure silence.
                                                Be compassed by wind.
                                                If you quiver like aspen

                                                trust your quick nature:
                                                let your ear teach you
                                                which way to listen.

                                                You've come to assume 
                                                protective color; now 
                                                colors reform to

                                                new shapes in your eye.
                                                You've learned by now
                                                to wait without waiting;

                                                as if it were dusk
                                                look into light falling:
                                                in deep relief

                                                things even out. Be
                                                careless of nothing. See
                                                what you see.