Why, in the middle of your busy life, would you pause to read poetry?
Because good poetry points us to what truly matters, which is why I use poetry so much in my work. A good poem offers sanctuary, reminding us of the necessity, power and beauty of contemplation. In a world hell-bent on filling space with activity and silence with noise, this is a subversive act. So slow down, digest a poem, let it take you by the hand. Allow yourself be touched, even changed. Indeed, poetry has been know to save lives. Nuff said. Onward!
Image: Paul Cezanne, Still life, pitcher and fruit
May this poem wrap you in a cloak of compassionate warmth.
May it help you recollect the loveliness of all life. Especially in these times. Amen.
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as Saint Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail,
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart
to the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.
Galway Kinnell from Mortal Acts, Mortal Words
Copyrighted material, for educational/therapeutic uses only.
A stunning tribute to Stephen Hawking (1942 – 2014), who understood the universe itself
is poetry. Howe’s heart-felt poem is full of ache and wonder and celebration of our shared reality.
Do you sometimes want to wake up to the singularity
we once were?
so compact nobody
needed a bed, or food or money —
nobody hiding in the school bathroom
or home alone
pulling open the drawer
where the pills are kept.
For every atom belonging to me as good
Belongs to you. Remember?
There was no Nature. No
them. No tests
to determine if the elephant
grieves her calf or if
the coral reef feels pain. Trashed
oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;
would that we could wake up to what we were
— when we were ocean and before that
to when sky was earth, and animal was energy, and rock was
liquid and stars were space and space was not
at all — nothing
before we came to believe humans were so important
before this awful loneliness.
Can molecules recall it?
what once was? before anything happened?
No I, no We, no one. No was
No verb no noun
only a tiny tiny dot brimming with
is is is is is
All everything home
By Marie Howe, composed for The Universe in Verse event at Pioneer Works in Brooklyn, N.Y.
Full program here: brainpickings.org/the-universe-in-verse/
For added enjoyment, take 2:34 minutes to check out this most amazing Song of the Universe:
The wee Luckster has actually always known his true nature,
while I, on the other hand, have needed help. Read on.
I could not lie anymore
so I started to call my dog
First he looked
he started smiling, then
he even danced.
I kept at it: now
he doesn’t even bite.
I am wondering
if this might work
Takuram (1608 –1650), found in Love Poems from God.
Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West. Translations by Daneil Ladinsky
Remix: My dog could not lie anymore
My dog could not lie anymore
so he started to call me
First I looked
I started smiling, then
I even danced.
He kept at it: now
I don’t even bite.
He and I are wondering
if this might work on
Remix by Krayna & Lucky