Ethel Mortenson Davis has two poems in the new issue of Poetry Hall, an English/Chinese journal that is available in the United States and and China. A Chinese scholar translated Ethel’s poems, and they appear in English and Chinese. You can order the journal at amazon. It’s really inexpensive. The title of Ethel’s poems are “The Room” and “Snow Goose.” “Snow Goose” was written when we joined Francha Barnard in Egg Harbor at the library for a session on writing Ekphrastic poetry!
Tag Archives: Ethel Mortenson Davis
Seed
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
A Vision
Out of the fire,
with the splitting
of the cone,
a seed emerges.
Thunderstorms
bring it to the soil.
A new tree begins
it’s rapture.
Out of the fire
we have found
new pathways,
a new vision.
We bring the least of us
along in our wagons.
There are no slaves or rich men.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Bramble, the literary magazine
Ethel and I guest edited the latest issue of Bramble, the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets publication. Ethel’s art is on the cover. We want to thank by Christine Kubasta and Tori Welhouse for their help. This was a great experience, and we hope lots of people will look and see what fantastic poets Wisconsin has! If you want copies you can order them from amazon now, or you can read the entire issue online!
Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Thomas Davis
The Birth of the World
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
A Letter on the Horizon’s Poem Released Today – Ethel Davis’s New Book
In my opinion this is the best book Ethel Mortenson Davis has published yet. It contains poems written during her teenage years through all the subsequent time until now. Poem after poem is a masterpiece.
Kathy Isaacson in her review of the book said: “Having long wondered who the Rumi of my generation could be, Ethel Mortenson Davis’s poetry similarly soothes and inspires me. This collection helps us contemplate our relationships with the earth while exploring other companions such as cancer, pain, war, loss of life, and starving horses. We experience healing with the smell of wild snow, sound of moss clinging to trees, sight of the moon dancing and fireflies whispering. Ethel’s poetry has accompanied me to a volcano in the New Mexican desert where it was read to the “laughing stars.” It has been recited to my classroom of wide-eyed students and currently blesses my bedside table.”
I found the book on amazon.com this morning, but not on Barnes and Noble yet. It was under Ethel Davis, not Ethel Mortenson Davis. The publisher is Kelsay Books.
Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books
The Kurdish Left Behind
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
On our walk today
a large flock of Canadian geese
rose up into the air.
Then a single call came
from somewhere deep in the woods,
a haunting sound made
by an injured or sick bird,
calling for help.
Migrating geese leave
their injured and sick behind.
Winter overtakes them
and ends their suffering.
It is like the Kurdish people
we left behind today,
or the Central Americans—
they reached for our hands,
crying out through their pain and suffering,
and we turned our backs on them,
left them for their enemies and winter
to finish them off.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Presentation
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
The Last Tiger
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
He is a great Siberian Tiger,
the last one.
They have him
in a steel cage
with thick grey bars—
there, at the center
of our town.
Sharpened sticks
lie all around him.
He has many wounds,
but there is still fire
in his eyes.
A young girl
comes to the cage,
crying and afraid.
She says,
“You must stop this now.
You must save this animal.
He is the last
of a royal species—
a sacred kind.”
She knew the combination
of the lock and opened
the cage door.
He sprang towards
the light, carrying
with him the girl’s heart.
“Go to the most northern
region of our country.
There the forests
will save and protect you.
There is still yet time.
There is still yet time
to balance God in the universe.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Little Bird
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
for April Chischilly
Little bird,
with wound on her chest,
comes to my water
each day.
Other birds
push her back,
but she is steadfast and stays.
She reminds me of you.
The first sunlight
that warms my body
in the early spring
after a long, cold winter
reminds me of you.
This morning, as the red, glowing mushroom
shone out from the dark forest floor,
an orange- red like no other,
it, too,
reminds me of you.
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