a photograph by Sonja Bingen
The Begging Gangs of Pakistan
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
A young man tells
of his daughter
kidnapped by gangs:
“They kidnap children
and cut off their arms or feet,
sometimes a leg,
and set them
in front of mosques so people
will drop coins in front of them.
“They place them throughout the city
and kidnap many children.
“Our daughter had escaped.
They pulled all her hair out.
She is always terrified.
“I used to think the Devil
was outside of us….
but we are the Devil.
“Humankind is the Devil.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
The First Meeting of the Tribal College Presidents– Maori College Administrators, Faculty, and Students in Hawaii
Note: This starts a new series of poems, The Tribal College poems, that tell about the tribal college movement in the United States and the formation of the World Indigenous Nations Higher Education Consortium (WINHEC). In many ways these poems have historical importance, describing events from some of the most important higher education movements that happened in the latter part of the 20th century.
The Maori came singing in rows,
Language as musical as colors of Hawaiian flowers,
Swaying rhythms weaving through island heat,
Capturing in movement wave song of ocean.
The tribal college people came, led by a hand drum,
Feet moving to the drum’s rhythm,
Spirit inculcated into the history of this moment
Away from the tribal homeland,
Maori homeland,
In the islands of Hawaii.
The singing and drumming met
In a swirl of traditional dress
And words from scores of cultures.
The meeting created waves and tides
And a singing beyond the singing of any one people
Or group of people,
And the waves and tides swept outward
From rocky shores of Hilo, past the reef
Into the ocean of the world
As a growing began
That sent echoes rumbling
Into years and decades in the process of borning.
Hi Yah Hi!
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
A Day
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
It is a day
when the earth
turns just right,
when fish swim
close to the top
of the Great Lake
to feed on insects or plants,
when black-winged pelicans
dive in and out to fish,
and fishermen gather
in clumps, throwing
out their lines.
It is a day
before the storm,
humid and cloudy,
when the two of you
think of ways to
come together,
as part
of a turning of the universe,
a love that blows
a sweetness over us—
something unexpected.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
Lake Michigan as the Sun Goes Down
a photograph by Sonja Bingen, our daughter
Filed under Art, Photography
A Mouse
a children’s poem by Thomas Davis
There was a little mouse that I knew
Who was singing to the big blue sky.
“Say little mouse,” I yelled at him there.
“What do you see? A blue sky pie?”
“No,” said the mouse as he sang his song.
“I only see a cloud and the blue,blue air,
But the cloud is as white as the winter snow,
And a sky so blue is rare.”
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Threatening Storm
a photograph by Sonja Bingen in Southern Wisconsin as Severe Storms Threatened the Midwest
Filed under Art, Photography
Winds
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The desert spring
does not come
in warm, dark thunderstorms,
but in relentless winds
that carry the precious nitrogen
to thirsty pines–
like the cosmic winds
that once brought
seed to our earth
a long time ago,
starting a chain
of endless life.
Endless winds
that blow everything
that is not bound or attached,
uncaging last year’s seeds
for the strange new birds
that have come for spring nesting.
Winds that loosen
the cords and strings
that hold us,
freeing us so we are ready
to accept the holy seed.
We place it in Her darkness
there, together on hands and knees.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
fourwindowspress 