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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

February 2019 – This Morning I Pray for My Enemies

 

 

 

 

 

We humans, a struggling species, can use more prayers like this.
The Heart can show the way, though, if we let it.

This Morning I Pray for My Enemies

And whom do I call my enemy?
An enemy must be worthy of engagement.
I turn in the direction of the sun and keep walking.
It’s the heart that asks the question, not my furious mind.
The heart is the smaller cousin of the sun.
It sees and knows everything.
It hears the gnashing even as it hears the blessing.
The door to the mind should only open from the heart.
An enemy who gets in, risks the danger of becoming a friend.

Joy Harjo, from Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings: Poems
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

By |February 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

January 2019 ~ Red Brocade

 

 

 

 

There’s no better way to enter this or any other year than with a poetics of hospitality.
That, and the refusal to be claimed by anyone or anything that poisons your heart.

The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.
That way, he’ll have strength
enough to answer.
Or, by then you’ll be
such good friends
you don’t care.

Let’s go back to that.
Rice? Pine Nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water
to your horse.

No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That’s the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.

I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint
into your tea.

Naomi Shihab Nye from 19 Varieties of Gazelle
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

By |January 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

December 2018 – Poetry

 

 

 

 


A poem full of clarity and wisdom  to bring 2018 to a close.  Keep on dancin’, friends.
And don’t take the title too literally or you’ll lose the poetry in “Poetry”! 

Poetry

Its door opens near. It’s a shrine
by the road. It’s a flower in the parking lot
of the Pentagon, it says, “Look around,
listen. Feel the air.” It interrupts
international telephone lines with a tune.
When traffic lines jam, it gets out
and dances on the bridge. If great people
get distracted by fame they forget
this essential kind of breathing
and they die inside their gold shell.
When caravans cross deserts
it is the secret treasure hidden under the jewels.

Sometimes commanders take us over and they
try to impose their whole universe;
how to succeed by daily calculation.
I can’t eat that bread.

By William Stafford from The Way It Is
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

By |December 4th, 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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