Morning comes whether you set the alarm or not.

No darkness lasts forever. And even there, there are stars. Ursula K Le Guin.

 

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For the great Ursula Le Guin’s 80th birthday, Debbie Notkin and I put together a festshrift as a gift to her.  My own contribution was a poem.  Missing her today, I pulled it out and I see that it needs much work.  But also that I won’t be working on it.  It was a birthday present, not a work of art. And it’s time is over.

I’ve spent the last month writing tributes to her and I think I’m worded out.  But I wanted something on my personal blog that acknowledges her passing and how lucky we were to have her when we did.  So here is the poem I wrote eight years ago:

 

 

Ursula’s Eightieth

A Sonnet Upon it

 

Sunrise at the edge of the world.  We dance,

the dog and I (the dog deadweight.)  We hear

the cri de coeur of seals, the “ur, ur, ur”

of Ursula.  The morning sun advances.

 

Dazzled sea and rock below.  Above

me, lines of pelicans, a cloud of gulls

unlock the air with joyful aerials.

We celebrate!  It is the birthday of

 

the worlds of Omelas, Urras, Gethen,

O, of Rocannon and the Ansarac,

and more.  All are very far away from

anywhere, yet each one holds this lesson:

that, wander where you will, (or even walk

away) and still you’re always coming home.