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Posts tagged ‘poetry’

Sep 2

Hidden, Front and Center

“Be still and listen to the voices that belong
to the stream banks and the trees and the open fields.
Find your hope, then, on the ground under your feet.”― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

“Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart,

Suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

Not for more or different.
But for gratitude and grace, senses ablaze.
To recognize and partake in blessings, beauty, light.
Already present in abundance.
On the ground I stand.
Prayer, poetry, proclamation.

“For everything that comes
is a gift, the meaning always
carried out of sight
to renew our whereabouts,
always a starting place.
And every gift is perfect
in its beginning, for it
is “from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

Aug 29

Muddled, Messy, Unedited

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes… Including you.” — Anne Lamott

“I’m not impressed by efficiency. That’s the truth.
And just because it’s quick, it doesn’t mean that it is masterly.
When it comes to poetry, I don’t think speed has ever really been the goal.
I think sometimes it takes ages
to find the right words for that small piece of your soul.
We are slowly mining language, searching for a gem.
And besides, everything I love is a little bit lumpy.
In this life, the things I most adore
are all so fabulously flawed:
The green corduroy coat, for example,
that patiently waits for winter in my hall—
the one that used to keep my mom warm, and now does the same for me,
with padding peeking out of the cuffs
and pockets clinging on for dear life;
Or the accidental butt-dial left by my friends—
the voicemail where I can hear them chanting for ABBA,
demanding one more song;
Or the dinner that’s burnt at the edges;
Or the apology typed mid-cry;
Or the way my trousers hug my belly;
Or texting, “Sorry, I forgot to reply.”
I really like—I love, actually—living in a way, in a place,
where nothing lines up quite right.
I want more of it. I want all of it:
The muddled. The messy.
The bits AI might edit out.
I am always going to opt for the higgledy-piggledy heartbeat,
the world with its cardigan on backwards,
covered in fingerprints, thumb-smudged, and warm.
I want an awkward pause.
I will choose the unedited pulse of things every single time.
The beauty of the almost,
the nearly there,
the not quite.
The things that remind me I am not sparkly or shiny,
or even really getting it right.
But I am.
We all are.
Undoubtedly alive.” – Georgie Jones

To an unedited, non-curated, honest, messy, fun day.
Steeped in the silly, ordinary, delight.
Flavors rising, colors deepening, light brightening.
The beauty of the almost and unfolding.
Undoubtedly alive and so much more than well.

 

Aug 27

Glance to Gaze of Wild Things

“Even the sun directs our gaze away from itself and to the life illumined by it.”― Eberhard Arnold, Salt and Light

“I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”― Wendell Berry

Thought
Not before or after
Here in this place
Glance to Gaze
Peace
Illumination
Imagination
Still waters
Grace flowing, overflowing.

“Run into peace.”― Meister Eckhart

Aug 6

Float like Lilies

“Lilies bloom when we laugh together.”― Suyasha Subedi

The Pond― Mary Oliver, Felicity

“August of another summer, and once again
I am drinking the sun
and the lilies again are spread across the water.
I know now what they want is to touch each other.
I have not been here for many years
during which time I kept living my life.
Like the heron, who can only croak, who wishes he
could sing,
I wish I could sing.
A little thanks from every throat would be appropriate.
This is how it has been, and this is how it is:
All my life I have been able to feel happiness,
except whatever was not happiness,
which I also remember.
Each of us wears a shadow.
But just now it is summer again
and I am watching the lilies bow to each other,
then slide on the wind and the tug of desire,
close, close to one another,
Soon now, I’ll turn and start for home.
And who knows, maybe I’ll be singing.”

A little thanks from every throat
Praise and presence
Song and dance
Smile and laughter
Floating like lilies
Drinking in the sun
Casting light.

“Wear scarlet! Tear the green lemons
off the tree! I don’t want
to forget who I am, what has burned in me,
and hang limp and clean, an empty dress -”― Denise Levertov

Jul 29

2 Comments

Dew of Little Things

“I want a brighter word than bright”― John Keats

“In the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.” – Kahlil Gibran

Refreshment of morning
Cast onto all things
Renewal, restoration, reclamation
Rejoicing rising from lament
Transformed and transfigured
In the dew of little things
Words brighter than bright
Fertile fields abloom
Glory ablaze.

“So I have taken up the tale
to tell it full and free.
The tale that makes the heart rejoice,
I tell it, for I have no choice—
I tell it till another voice
takes up the tale from me.”
― Malcolm Guite, Galahad and the Grail

Jul 12

Begin, Repeat, Delight

“One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began” – Mary Oliver

“Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields…Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.”― Mary Oliver

Good morning sunshine
Begin
And keep beginning
Again and again
New paths
Travel lightly
Grounded on grace
Sunrise to sunset
Abundance and awe.

“Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.”― Mary Oliver, Evidence: Poems

Jul 9

Sonnet of this Day

“Observe constantly that all things take place by change, and accustom thyself to consider that the nature of the Universe loves nothing so much as to change the things which are, and to make new things like them.” – Marcus Aurelius

“Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. – Mrs. Whatsit”― Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

Made new each morning.
Minute, hour for the taking.
With a shift in thought.
A tilt of the head.
Listening, abiding, reverence.
Write your sonnet.
Of today.

“Part of doing something is listening. We are listening. To the sun. To the stars. To the wind.”― Madeleine L’Engle, Swiftly Tilting Planet

Jun 2

In the Details, Life Ablaze

“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” — Henry Miller

The Summer Day by Mary Oliver

“Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

In the details, such beauty
The pause, immensity
The gaze, discovery
The stillness, symphony
The witnessing, amazement
The idleness, expansion
Holy, sacred ground we stand
Ordinary days, brimming with life
In wonder, reverence, goodness, grace

“God is in the details.” – Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Apr 15

Kissed by Light

“When one flower blooms spring awakens everywhere”― John O’Donohue

“As Spring rain softens the Earth with surprise
May your Winter places be kissed by light.

As the ocean dreams to the joy of dance
May the grace of change bring you elegance.

As day anchors a tree in light and wind
May your outer life grow from peace within.

As twilight fills night with bright horizons
May Beauty await you at home beyond.”― John O’Donohue

Early bloomers.
Daffodils, first flowers to arrive
To announce, welcoming newness of spring
Poetry dressed in yellow
Winter bids adieu
Fresh start, new day
Outside and within.

“Within the grip of winter, it is almost impossible to imagine the spring…Then, imperceptibly, somewhere one bud opens and the symphony of renewal is no longer reversible.” – John O’Donohue

Mar 24

Further Shore

“Strange, it is a huge nothing that we fear.”― Seamus Heaney, Death of a Naturalist

“So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
And cures and healing wells.”
― Seamus Heaney

Poetry of this day.
What will you read?
What will you write?
The pen is in your hands.
Signatures of your own frequency.
Cures and healing wells, deep and wide.
Shores to reach.

“You lose more of yourself than you redeem
doing the decent thing. Keep at a tangent
When they make the circle wide, it’s time to swim
Out on your own and fill the element
with signatures on your own frequency.”
― Seamus Heaney, Station Island

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