Marianne Murphy Zarzana
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The Only Safety

5/24/2011

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While on our recent road trip to the Southwest, Jim and I visited Las Cruces, New Mexico. My aunt, Mary Ahern Lawbaugh, my mother's sister, had lived there long ago, and I wanted to pay my respects to her life. It was good to see the home where she had lived, to recall wonderful memories hanging out with my five siblings and my five cousins while on a trip to visit relatives in the West. 

When I came home, I pulled out a poem I wrote about Aunt Mary years ago in graduate school but had never sent out to be published. I've revised it more, and now I think it's ready to go out. 
I share it here.

The Only Safety

for my aunt, Mary Ahern Lawbaugh (1938-1971)

When you died--a shock, a mystery still--my soul cramped,
a shadow of itself. Fifteen and sick that day for no reason, I sprawled
on a yellow bed. Then the phone call. A heavy curtain dropped.
The news, incomprehensible. The whole world's face going blank.

In first grade, I clutched a rabbit puppet in my plane seat flying
from O'Hare to Omaha to see your exhibit. At the Joslyn Art Museum,
I posed for a snapshot by the pillars, your name on the sign--
woman, mother, artist--your paintings alive on the walls inside.

At twelve, the next and last time I saw you, our family visited yours
in Las Cruces. You let me pick one of your paintings, "Jungle Moths,"
bright-winged, red, azure, orange, amidst bold tropical-green leaves.
Your moths still float on our kitchen wall, your presence at every meal.

After your passing, did I allow fear to keep the poet hidden, her words
hoarded in the dark? But words, like trees, crave light. Let me believe
this to be the only safety, the truest way to honor your life, your art:
throw open the door, let words, like seeds, loose upon the land, let trees
spring up where they may to give shelter and shade, bear fruit and beauty.

-Marianne Murphy Zarzana
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"Marked By Ashes" - by Walter Brueggemann

3/8/2011

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A friend emailed me this prayer poem, and I share it here for Ash Wednesday. I love the fresh, unsentimental images and direct language, the honesty and bluntness of "that taste of ash in our mouth: of failed hope and broken promises" balanced with the hope of "Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom / Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth."

I hope amidst the burdens and "tasks of the day," you find a sense of "gift and newness and possibility" in your writing life.


Marked by Ashes 

Ruler of the Night, Guarantor of the day . . .This day — a gift from you.
This day — like none other you have ever given, or we have ever received.
This Wednesday dazzles us with gift and newness and possibility.
This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day, for we are already halfway home
     halfway back to committees and memos,
     halfway back to calls and appointments,
     halfway on to next Sunday,
     halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant,
     half turned toward you, half rather not.

This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday,
   but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes --
     we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:
       of failed hope and broken promises,
       of forgotten children and frightened women,
     we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
     we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.

We are able to ponder our ashness with
   some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes
   anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.

On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you --
   you Easter parade of newness.
   Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,
     Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;
     Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth.
   Come here and Easter our Wednesday with
     mercy and justice and peace and generosity.

We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.

- Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933)

For over thirty years now, Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) has combined the best of critical scholarship with love for the local church in service to the kingdom of God. Now a professor emeritus of Old Testament studies at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia, Brueggemann has authored over seventy books. Taken from his Prayers for a Privileged People (Nashville: Abingdon, 2008), pp. 27-28.

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    Author

    I love to play with words. To capture moments on the page. To explore the physical and spiritual geography of what I call "fly-over country." I write from imagination, observation and my own experience of wandering in fly-over country--the literal, physical spaces of my life on the Minnesota prairie and the inner territory of the soul. 

    I teach writing at Southwest Minnesota State University in Marshall, Minnesota. I enjoy cooking and traveling with my husband Jim, reading, practicing yoga, playing tennis, biking, hiking and gardening.

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