Wednesday, August 8, 2012

My Prayer is Organic

Patricia Goodwin is the author of When Two Women Die, a novella about two women who died and became legends in the historic seacoast town of Marblehead, MA, available now on Amazon. She is also the author of Atlantis, political poems about the United States being another Atlantis.

This new blog post will be like coming out of the closet - most people would rather tell people they are gay than tell people they believe in the Virgin Birth and aliens. I'm not gay. I'm not a Catholic, more of a Magdalena, not a fallen woman, but a devotee of the ancient tradition that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married, had a daughter, Sarah, and that Jesus's message to us, that we should live simply and well in small agrarian societies, was corrupted by the church, which also smashed the fresh water system as pagan. Hence, the Dark Ages. 

And, now, science and GMOs. Why bring religion into it? Can you really believe that changing the DNA of all plants, copyrighting each "new" seed as your own, not God's, then putting these deformed seeds out into nature, has nothing to do with God?

My Prayer is Organic

I believe in the Virgin Mary

She is fierce

Do not cross her!
She can burst the sun or twist the poles

And gentle

Love her!

My prayer is organic
I pray every day

I believe in the Virgin Birth
I see nothing around me that is less or more fantastic

Mother, Mary, La Mer, Mother to us all

She is on my windowsill above my kitchen sink
Where I pray every day

Every thought, every action is a prayer

Once, this same small statue of the Madonna stood in the arugula garden
At the foot of a telephone pole
Around which my great-grandmother and grandmother
Two generations of Italian Americans
Had carved a small vegetable garden
Out of the concrete of East Boston

I followed my great-grandmother down three stories of wooden stairs
Two flights for each story
While she carried the water in a large, heavy pan
Three or four or five trips
In her eighties
I can still see her blue velvet slippers shuffling
Ahead of my small feet

What do they know of such devotion?
Oh, yes, the farmers who go out before dawn every day
They are devoted
To their belief in Monsanto, a false god

There is only one organic.

The seed is sacred
As sacred as the Mother Corn and her son, The Corn God
Sacrificed, his blood poured into the earth
His prayer to heaven
The corn grows
I am as religious as the seed
As devoted as the grass
The aliens, who do not want us to destroy our earth
Write mad signals to us in circles in the grass
While they harvest her energy
These circles we cannot read: we are illiterate.

What do we know of earth’s energy?
We are going the wrong way

God made the seed
The petals fall gently and mathematically aligned in the right place
And now, we are unmaking
The petals fall deformed and ugly
As all those who will eat the fruit

We are still in The Garden of Eden

Unmaking is the nuclear bomb
Unmaking is against God

The aliens watch us unmake! They cannot harvest unmaking! They are afraid for earth’s energy, for their harvest and ours.

Against the Mother
Against God

My prayer is organic

I cannot grasp the Mother’s energy!
How I wish like Her, I could bounce and burst the sun upon them!
To stop them

But you cannot pray for unmaking

I can only pray

write and cook and care

every day

My prayer is organic
small and organic

a seed

©Patricia Goodwin, 2012

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