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“What if the world is holding its breath – 
waiting for you to take the place that only you can fill?”
David Whyte

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

August 2018 ~ St. Francis and the Sow

 

 

 

 

 

 

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. 

The bud

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.

By |August 24th, 2018|Tags: |

July 2018 ~ Singularity (after Stephen Hawking)


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:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWVshkVF0SY

By |July 1st, 2018|Tags: , |

June 2018 – I could not lie anymore (and the remix)


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
“God.”

First he looked
confused, then

he started smiling, then
he even danced.

I kept at it: now
he doesn’t even bite.

I am wondering
if this might work

on people?

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
“God.”

First I looked
confused, then

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

other people?

Remix by Krayna & Lucky

By |June 2nd, 2018|Tags: |

Lucky’s Corner

lucky

Here’s a tasty morsel of poetic medicine from Lucky.
Down the hatch!

“Be a songbird,
not a parrot.”

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

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