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When the stock market craters and things are so bad that Fox News
can’t scroll the Dow Jones on its crawl, how helpless I feel, living
in this uncertainty. And what can one small person do to change
things? So I go for a walk, noticing the edge of the woods where daffodils
are spilling golden notes, where the wild pear trees, which were
just black twigs and angles yesterday have now whipped themselves up
into a lather, a froth, an enormous bouquet of gladness. One
song sparrow trills its waterfall of song. Everywhere, rash abundance,
if only we could share. What if we could invent an economy
based on connections? What if we measured net worth
by the compound interest of petals as they quietly unfold?
What if the GDP was really made up of birdsong, the limitless
arithmetic of joy?

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Copyright 2025 Barbara Crooker
Barbara Crooker’s many books include Slow Wreckage (Grayson, 2024). Her awards include the WB Yeats Society of New York Award, the Thomas Merton Poetry of the Sacred Award, and three Pennsylvania Council fellowships in literature. She lives in Allentown, Pennsylvania.
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“What if the GDP was really made up of birdsong, the limitless
arithmetic of joy?”
Oh! What a wonderful poem!
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The first time I read this poem I thought it said ‘What if the GOP was really made up of birdsong, the limitless arithmetic of joy?’ Can you imagine Trump being happy?
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No, I can’t imagine Trump being happy. Ever.
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This question still haunts me today:
“What if we could invent an economy
based on connections? “
…and forgive me for this little moment of sentimentality. But Vox Populi & all of us readers, certainly are succeeding (thanks to its ‘inventor’ Michael) in building our own, peaceful, flowering version of togetherness…
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Thank you for saying this, Laure-Anne. This is my hope for the Vox Populi community. When my children were in a Waldorf elementary school years ago, a group of families worked together for the benefit of the community as a whole. But this type of selfless service is not common in America where we are trained to be greedy and competitive.
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A beautiful reminder of what truly enriches us.
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Thanks so much!
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The arithmetic of joy – oh yes!! So appreciate Barbara’s poems.
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Thanks!
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Taking on insane times with a poem of imagination and hope. Bravo. A world with blossoms and a froth of colors. A reset via nature.
If avian friends were paying attention to the folly of some human leaders, mockingbirds would be learning some new tweets to mock.
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Hahahaha
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Many, many thanks! Love that last paragraph!
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Inside I am in bed again on my pity pot. It is afternoon. I did get up once but here I am. Outside is my wild labyrinth with tangerines and benches to sit under the palo verde tree. Outside are finches and squirrels and bunnies and crows and tiny jewel insects. Outside is a cacophony of scents from native flowers. I just need to start with one foot on the floor.
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stay grounded, Barb, if you can
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One foot off the floor is the only way to keep going. You garden sounds like paradise!
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Those questions! How moving they are — thank you for that!
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such a perfect, song-like expression of what we need so badly in this human realm. I am reminded of where I need to be inside by where this takes me outside. Thankyou so much Barbara!
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I wish we had some answers! Thank you for your kind remarks–
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Oh! How I needed this one today. “Rash abundance …” thank you, Barbara Crooker and Vox Populi, for this marvelous infusion.
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I agree. Barbara’s poem is a refreshingly beautiful lyric with a commonsense argument. Thanks, Annie.
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Thank you SO much!
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