Read it and Laugh

On today’s edition of On My (Library) Bookshelf, we have these special guests:

Marianne Moore, Complete Poems:

"O to Be a Dragon"

If I, like Solomon,…
could have my wish—
my wish…O to be a dragon,
a symbol of the power of Heaven—of silkworm
size or immense; at times invisible.
Felicitous phenomenon!

Andy Adams, Why the Chisolm Trail Forks, and Other Tales of the Cattle Country

Ogden Nash (selected poems), I Wouldn’t Have Missed It (from which, Oh, how to choose a sample?):

From "The Slipshod Scholar Gets Around to Greece"

I sing of the ancient Greeks.
They had magnificent physiques.
[…]
If the Greeks had never existed who would have been the most annoyed?
Freud.

Wendell Berry, A World Lost
Wendell Berry, Farming: a Hand Book (I decided if Dr. M. was going to write about’m, I wanted to read’m):

From "A Letter"

Now back in Kentucky, far from you again,
I often think of those days and nights, and long
for their music and their mirth. And then
I remind myself: the past is gone. Remember it.

Wodehouse
And my (favorite) find of this time:
Odgen Nash (trans. James Gleeson and Brian Meyer), Ave Ogden! Nash in Latin (original in comments. The meter is not the same as Nash, or Vergil, for that matter, but it’s still fun):

"Hipppotamus"
Ecce hippopotamus, sis!
Ridemus quomodo videatur nobis,
Tempore tamen miserabili
Miror quomodo videamur ei.
Pacem, pacem, hippopotame!
Videmur grati nobis vere,
Es dulcis sine dubio
Aliorum hipporum oculo.

Rebuilding

I went unto the place where I had been a safe child, and had grown to be a vulnerable child, and its walls were broken down. The offices of my fathers were changed, with new people at their desks and new books in their classes; the school suffered great trouble and shame. And I wept for the places that were vacant, for the people in exile, for those who survived; for my nourishing mother, for I love it. And I prayed to the God of heaven that He would rebuild the walls His people destroyed in their sin.

I do not know the rest of the story. But I pray that it will be one of His servants rising up to sort through the rubble and fill in the gaps in the wall, to rebuild while fending off the arrows of the Enemy and his servants. A story showing that the God of heaven is a God ready to forgive, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, who has not dealt with us as we deserve, but has dealt faithfully even when we acted wickedly. I pray that His Holy Spirit will work with His supernatural power in the hearts of men, that where there has been pain and anger and bitterness and injustice, there may be love. That the world may see us, and know there is a God by the way we love one another. That we may have the attitude in us which was also in Christ Jesus; that our love may abound more and more.

Have mercy upon us, Oh God, because of your unfailing love.

Over the Rainbow

I love airports: they are one of the magicalest places I know. Where else are there so many possibilities? Walking down the hallway, there are doors a person could step through and magically end up in Denver, Detroit, Atlanta, Tampa, L.A. or D.C. Not to mention Paris and Oklahoma City.

I love watching people in airports. They are usually hurried and bored, but I can imagine interesting things about them all. In BWI I stood up to walk around and get a drink, and when I came back, my seat was gone. The elderly lady sitting next to her overalled husband looked up from her baby blue crochet, smiled at me and patted the seat next to her. We talked.

I love airplanes, too. They are one of my favorite property-things; even though they are not substantial, they almost seem to have an essence of their own. I sat in row 5, counting the individual rocks on the pavement outside. The engines came to life beneath me, and I caught their excitement, drawn into their passion, impatient to fly. It occurred to me that airplanes are rather like people, with the coach area being the belly, the passions. But it was alright, because we the passions were controlled by reason in the pilot. I was happily trying to finish up my comparison and remember the third part, when the pilot’s voice came over the system. "Welcome to our flight to…" he cut off for a minute, and I was about to decide it was a glitch in the sound, when his voice returned… "Memphis." I laughed at my metaphor.

Just west of Memphis there are strange squiggly lines on the ground that reminded me of Dr. V.; I wondered if they had anything to do with communications from outer space.

I saw a thunderstorm from the air: a flashing silver thread of electrical energy, a rainbow underneath me. "Oh, let me dance on rainbows..."

And I read Chesterton, on the magic of repetition in nature; the marvel of the beauty and humor of the cosmos; the smallness and greatness of man. I looked out the window and saw he was right.

To my Friends in VA, and Otherwise

To any friend(s) I may happen to possess in the VA (no, not Veteran's Administration) area:

WHEREFORE, The First Dragon Wedding (DWI) is taking place upon the 4th day of this month of August (an excellent day for marriage, if I may be allowed to recommend it as the daughter of my parents who were married on that excellent day), and

WHEREFORE, I wish to attend said wedding, and furthermore

WHEREFORE, I am on the support-raising trail,

LET IT BE KNOWN THAT

I, H. Rebekah C., will be visible in the VA area from the seventh (7th) to the thirteenth (13th) of this month, and desirous of seeing you. If the feeling is mutual, let me know and we'll get together.

Otherwise:

we are all here (albeit briefly). This is not a statement about the mental state of my multiple personalities (all schizophrenic), or royal Self with a hamster in the pocket. Nor is it a statement about the mental state of my family. But he is making jokes, and I am laughing at them (and stealing an old one).

And the happiest of birthdays to the youngest of the tribe, who entered the perilous year between 11-12 today. May God have mercy.