[Oe List ...] Song: Take Care and Build the Earth; Re: Our ever-dwindling Listserve

[Ellie Stock]

Below:  a song companion (adapted from Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night") to Milan's poem...
TAKECARE AND BUILD THE EARTH

 Donot go gentle into that good nightSoulsshould burn at close of day

Rageagainst the dying light

Againstthe darkened maze

Warriorswounded and worn

Yettrusting and unalarmed

Winkat the moon

Thoughit smile too soon

Insilence sing rebirth

Takecare and build the earth

 Donot go gentle into that good march

Soulsshould burn at resting’s end

Rageagainst the journey’s arc

Againstlife’s chosen bend

Warriorsattentive and armed

Yetvulnerable and scarred

Tiptoe to stars

Thoughthey beckon too far

Instillness dance clown’s mirth

Takecare and build the earth

 Donot go gentle into that good life

Soulsshould burn at hopeless days

Rageagainst the endless strife

Againstthe Mystery’s Way

Warriorsfilled with dreams

Ofvictories unseen

Embracelightning’s touch

Thoughconsuming too much

Belovedones endure

Takecare, and build the earth


               ejhs                   Adapted from Dylan Thomas, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"

Ellie Stockelliestock at aol.com     




-----Original Message-----
From: Milan Hamilton via OE <oe at lists.wedgeblade.net>
To: ORDER LISTSERVE <oe at wedgeblade.net>
Cc: Milan Hamilton <mellowmilan2 at gmail.com>
Sent: Thu, Sep 16, 2021 12:24 pm
Subject: [Oe List ...] Our ever-dwindling Listserve

I believe it was Ken (Fisher?) who coined this greeting in response to Joe Ayers completion: “our ever-dwindling Listserve.” This was one of those “intrusions”into my psyche that resulted in the following poem and Googling the Henry V speech. It made me reflect on the stages of grief and where am I. Not only are we dwindling in numbers but the species of our beloved home are dwindling even faster. I get up every morning and dutifully tick off another of the days of this decade remaining (3,395 today) to have to reduce our carbon emission by the proverbial 45-50% in order to have a livable earth. And get just a little more angry/sad/resigned/accepting. I think I am cycling between resignation and acceptance currently. The response this particular notice and comment from Ken generated in me led to the following. I share it for the edification of the remnant. Milan H.
A Chair at the TableSt Crispin's Day SpeechThe St Crispin's Day speech is a part of William Shakespeare's history play Henry V, Act IV Scene iii(3) 18–67. On the eve of the Battle of Agincourt, which fell on Saint Crispin's Day, Henry V urges his men, who were vastly outnumbered by the French, to recall how the English had previously inflicted great defeats upon the French. The speech has been famously portrayed by Laurence Olivier to raise British spirits during the Second World War, and by Kenneth Branagh in the 1989 film Henry V; it made famous the phrase "band of brothers".[1] The play was written around 1600, and several later writers have used parts of it in their own texts.WESTMORLAND. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

KING. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin, Westmorland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian."
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester—
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
>From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd—
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.AddendumAh we privileged few that in a land of myst’rySat at table, men and women, facing one anotherWhile girding ourselves for battles of the spiritMore fierce than those we’d face outsideOur hallowed halls where, singing songs familiarAnd others learned from theologians’ wordsWould stir our hearts and lead us into placesNone believed we’d ever tread.We century twenty band of timid soulsInspired first to save the Church by teachingHer to love the World a parish at a time;Then audacious though it seemed to all but weOn fire with Consciousness flowing like a riverTurned our gaze upon a suffering world four billion then,Now nearly eight before we blinked an eye, ours not G-O-D’s.Climbing the Mountain of Care, we thought could demonstrateAnew a balanced triangle, a band of twenty-four, a humanizing threadOf hope beyond hope to the poorest of the poor,Not realizing yet that they were Us, the ones in need.But wait, opportunity knocks, maybe only this once in a lifetime chance:The bicentennial of the good old USA! Are you ready for this?Yes! Said We, let us conduct five thousand Town MeetingsAnd by the way, let’s make it several thousand more around the world.Town Meeting ’76! Was off and running. Of course, we did it,One in every county of the land belov-ed. Ours not G-O-D’s.And who knows how many in the world belov-ed, G-O-D’s for sure.What a historical ride on which we privileged few were taken:Painful years ahead, decisions, decisions, decisions.Sendouts galore! Broken chains of Care! Did I sign up for this?Oh Yeah! You did! And now you get to reap the fruits of your labor.Now the Sea of Tranquility’s becoming clear.Just got an E-mail about Audrey’s Joe, not the first of us to go to the Mystery’s embraceBut there’s always one that wakes you up, not so?I knew Audrey! No, I don’t mean I knew Audrey, exactly. But I knew AudreyBack in nineteen-sixty-nine, Academy, and Summer 70.This feeling washed over me, of being one of the privileged onesWho knew Audrey and Joe, and the others of us who’ve gone to the Mystery’s care:My friend Terry, who “recruited” me, George and David, who taught me,And Bob, who mentored me and was my friend, and Audrey, who I knew in ’69.Chairs are missing at the table; we are dwindling one by one;Yet the stories as they leave us, telling us their work is done,Join with saints of all the ages, beckoning, beckoning, to leave out not a single one.I’m not naming any more of us, you know who you are. Except for that other Joe, who more importantly, knew me. Remember Joe?Joe used to say that when he went, all of us who went on ahead would wait hey--At the Pearly Gate hey.So, we could all march in together hey.Ah, we privileged few who were there on Crispin’s Day  Milan HamiltonSeptember 15, 2021  
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