Thoughts and Prayers  

“Made of bone” and “she’s a turtle” penciled at the top of steno book,
Rippled from New Mexico rain or California mist or chlorinated water
From a glass (glass) on a wooden table at the Aztec Café in Santa Fe--

Code Pink flyers on the wall.. That was the beginning of the end.  In older
Places named for saints and forts, ravens and wrens fill the  background. 
Clearing the lungs of all that is old: Cowpen Daisy seeding, the last few

Monarchs,  potatoes in cellars somewhere; basements for roots and furnaces
And roller skating. We sit and pray and sing--the crunch-munch-crunch
Prayer outside, holding on to donkey tooth rosaries inside a breathing

Mandala of  burros. Shooting Star (Olli) and Cinderella 
Dancing in the sun. The blowing prayer, the buck-and-doe prayer,
The humans with newfangled chair-and-pens-and-jackets prayer

We’re here with oak and cedar, wind, leaves on the ground, birdsong.
More lung clearing and breaking of rules. Each in our own cabin
In the woods, in a limestone theater. Little Olli (Shooting Star)

Is quietly joining the circle. The world ends. The donkey rolls. 
There is groaning and dust and tiny flies. A squirrel sounds
Like the scratching of pen on paper; leaves flutter and ripple, 

watermarked. Wheels and mushrooms, Faraway lakes full of wood,
water and doubt, earth and water weed, fish and snails and murky vision--
The animals move away leaving a ring of silence. 

October

Kestrel, turtle-like, red earth 
Mixed with sea foam, standing 
Like calcium—a donkey named 
For a bird. Deep brown eye
Of sleep and kindness, faint
Memory of cicada shells;
Greeting Monarchs and Queens
His winter coat is growing.
 

Remedy

I don’t sense the creek down the hill.
Past the false morels, limestone shelves,
Clear green water. Imprints of raccoon
Paws and deer tongues making 
Homeopathic Wild 200C.

I don’t know how it will affect me.
If you have the correct remedy,
All it takes is intention-- not molecules.
Tadpole radionics. I see an effect 
on Bunny’s donkey legs—
Vestigial striping and the cross of Jesus.

My mare has forest dapples,
Like the tabbies--former ocelots--
Grassland and leafy shadows
Speak on their domesticated pelts. 

Waiting for an aggravation,
I'm thrilled by stars and dung beetles, 
tempted to count each
Brown leaf on the ground,
never noticed before. 
I’m amazed by the surface area of
Lichen on branches and bark and want
To name its colors
(like paint chips and nail polish)
but that is impossible. 

Blue bee flies out of a hole
In limestone rock. Maybe Wild 200C
Has brought honey to stone.

I’ve stopped battling entropy
And am averse to maintenance
except For removing bees 
from water buckets. So many
I’s in this poem (ten) 
it makes me shudder. 

What is the next level out
From I? The cardinal song
is the first layer of air 
closest to my ear, 
the mourning dove two
atmospheres away, and in the wider
Unseen sphere, a siren.

How does I inhabit
All the currents? Maybe it is just all the
Things I love that make this mine: 
a donkey’s breath, lightning bugs,
Raindrops On cedar, 
a wren flying to her nest
And bats. 

Kate Bremer

Writing (and a little drumming) with the Herd is for teenagers, adults, professional writers, scared nervous writers and people who have never written before but would like to try. The experience will involve trees, butterflies, donkeys, horses and birdsong. Each session of writing practice (5-10 minutes) will start with me or someone in the group reading a poem or paragraph or short essay that may be inspiring. We will use that as a springboard, and you can ignore the springboard to write about anything you want.  We usually write 3-4 times.

The "rules" come from "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg.  I love this book and recommend it because it takes much of the stress and performance anxiety out of writing. 

"1. Keep your hand moving...

 2. Don't cross out...

 3. Don't worry about spelling, punctuation, grammar...

 4. Lose Control...

 5. Go for the jugular..."

After we write, each person may read what they have written to the group.. or not.  Usually we read twice so that we can listen more clearly. The group can comment with phrases or words that catchtheir attention. No critique, no praise, no advice! Another unofficial rule is to read without prefacing your work with something like, "this really sucks but here goes..."

You are invited to bring a drum or rattle and we usually have extras. The donkeys have  responded enthusiastically and noisily to a saxophone,  and one time, some of us tried blowing a conch, which turned out to sound similar to a sickly hee haw. My mare, Kaya,  especially likes drumming and will often position herself heart to heart with a drum and will lick the drumskins. (In the photo, Marcia is showing Kestrel her oatmeal container drum!)

The donkeys typically interact with us as we write in interesting ways--pooping, rolling, farting, munching, chewing on hats and just resting in their sandy rolling spots. Cinderella offers her particular brand of spicy humor and nudges us not to be so serious. The other donkeys (Kestrel, Ollie and Bunny) are gentler in their demeanor but are present and seem to enjoy having all of us in their world for the morning. Kestrel once ate a poem. 

The experience involves walking for ten minutes down a hill to the "sacred grove" where we will set up chairs or blankets on the ground. We can be flexible if we know in advance that a hike might be difficult for someone planning to participate. Bring water, a notebook and pen and a musical instrument if you like. The next Writing With the Herd will be Sunday, Jan. 26, 2020  -- 1:30 to 3:30 pm.  

Assonance--A Donkey Poetry Challenge  

April is National Poetry Month. Today I want to issue a challenge to post a donkey or mule  (or horse) poem here in the comments, written by yourself or another poet.  When I host Writing with the Herd here, I find snippets,  poems and sections of writing to be jumping-off topics for writing practice. Many wonderful horse poems exist, but I have not been able to find resonant donkey poems. I would love to see some!!! 

This month I challenge you to write a long-ear villanelle, a hee-haw haiku, a sonnet for a jennet, Burros by Basho, a mule ghazal, a paint pantoum, a poitou prose poem, free-roaming free verse, asinine rhyme, a molly melody or a burro ballad. Please share in the comments and attribute the author. 

I mention several verse forms. Form is a simple way to create a structure for myself—clear and kind directives to alleviate anxiety in the poet, horse or donkey. Rhyme and repetition in many of the forms can also help to guide a frisky mind. The easiest form is the acrostic in which you spell a word down the page, using each letter  to form words which will join up to create an acrostic poem! The other forms can be looked up by search engine. Have fun. 

Making
Up
Long Ear
Elegies

Here is my poem which is a sonnet.  Many of the lines came from Writing with the Herd. Next gathering is April 30 from 10 to 12:30 and will include drumming and writing. See Events Page for more information. 

Prayer Blanket

As if prayer were an inquisitive burro
Turning over the haycart of beauty,
Or one stout mare—a psalm of earth,
A balm, a tongue, a gong for you.
My prayer is one of distraction—
Heat lamps, duct tape and PVC,
Damn wind and winter reactions,
Crinoids, stone mollusks and pollen seed.
What yucca spears stand to offer,
Basket strings and drawing tools.
“Kestrel”, my burro’s, radiant fur,
Pictures in the sand. We are all God’s mules.
Fools? What part of the desert will sustain?
Lichen, limestone and the donkey train.

Kate Bremer

11-9-2016.  On the day after the US election,  Muse was diagnosed with nasal carcinoma. She had had a persistent runny nose, and while I was out of town, her condition changed for the worse. Veterinary note: If you notice your animal has a persistent runny nose and odd head shaking, it may be a sign of carcinoma and not just allergies. She had been treated with antibiotics and steroids a month before which helped temporarily.

The following day, I brought her in for euthanasia. She was disoriented and having trouble breathing. Muse was born in 2004, adopted from Lago Vista Paws and came to me in 2005. I miss her sweet quiet presence. Because she did not go through the gradual declines of old age,  I did not have the months of elder-care/hospice to prepare to say good bye. I appreciate all of the wonderful love she brought to me and the dogs and other cats here. 

I had an interesting experience with burying her. I had gone out to dig out rocks and hard earth to create a grave near some other beloved animal friends. Later I was in the back yard with my dogs,  Ruby and Dutch Apple. Ruby started digging furiously underneath a bower of salvia. Even in November, blooms and butterflies were active! She kept digging and Dutch came to join her. 

They dug the perfect grave for Muse in the most beautiful spot. All I had to do was clear out the loose dirt and all was ready. That is where she is;  I thank the dogs for helping and for the unexpected gift of support and for the perfection of Muse's resting place. So much for my practical digging chore out front! I do think digging in the earth and prying rocks out is a good method of processing grief, so am happy I got to do that too. 

The message I keep getting from the land and the donkeys and horses is to GO with the energies that present themselves. If dogs start to dig a grave, go with that. If a horse comes to you and wants you to put a halter on him, go with that! Following the energy is a beautiful practice with teaching animals, people, in creativity and probably also in maneuvering traffic and grocery store aisles. 

Rest in Peace Muse. Thank you sharing some time with me. I would love to hear other stories here in the comments if you feel moved. 

Kaya is our resident mustang. She came to me as a foster horse several years ago and decided to stay. Many visitors to the “ranch” have had a deep experience of connection with her—a long and deep wordless talk in the moon light, a few moments of connecting with her beautiful dark eyes and more recently…DRUMMING!

It turns out that Kaya loves being around drumming. When I make time to share space with my herd and friends, we often bring drums and other musical instruments. The last time I brought my camera, so have captured some moments for you.

My beautiful mare spent many minutes with her heart in line with my heart as I drummed in that intersection. She took turns connecting with my friend, Sarah, and was gracious enough to bless Sarah’s drums with long breaths and even a good lick. 

The meaning of “Kaya” is not marijuana, as some reggae fans may think; instead it refers to something or someone with whom  you feel a strong love connection. 

Kaya spent several minutes with her muzzle on my forehead as I drummed.. I felt blessed with horse magic and breath. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlD3Id6Na_s&feature=youtu.be

I have read that a horse’s skin is her most receptive organ and it feels like Kaya may enjoy the vibration of the drum on her great kinesthetic body and into her organs. I am grateful for moments to share  with the horses and donkeys in nature in perfect presence—and with human friends!

Thank you for reading our first blog post! What special moments or activities do you share with your animals?