Sunday, July 11, 2010

a momentary creed






I believe in the ordinary day
that is here at this moment and is me

I do not see it going its own way
but I never saw how it came to me

It extends beyond whatever I may
think I know and all that is real to me

it is the present that it bears away
where has it gone when it has gone from me

there is no place I know outside today
except for the unknown all around me

the only presence that appears to stay 
everything that I call mine it lent me

even the way that I believe the day
for as long as it is here and is me




~ W.S. Merwin
from:  The Shadow of Sirius

.

That sounds wonderful


.
.
Good poetry
Makes a beautiful naked woman
Materialize from
Words,
.
Who then says,
With a sword precariously waving
In her hands,
.
"If you look at my loins
I will cut off your head,
.
And reach down and grab your spirit
By its private parts,
.
And carry you off to heaven
Squealing in joy."
.
Hafiz says,
"That sounds wonderful, just
Wonderful.
.
Someone please - start writing
Some great
Lines."
.
- Hafiz
from: The subject tonight is love - versions by Daniel Ladinsky
.

Friday, July 9, 2010

what the bird with the human head knew




I went to the bird
with the human head,
and asked,
Please Sir,
where is God?

God is too busy
to be here on earth,
His angels are like one thousand geese assembled
and always flapping.
But I can tell you where the well of God is.

Is it on earth?
I asked.
He replied,
Yes. It was dragged down
from paradise by one of the geese.

I walked many days,
past witches that eat grandmothers knitting booties
as if they were collecting a debt.
Then, in the middle of the desert
I found the well,
it bubbled up and down like a litter of cats
and there was water,
and I drank,
and there was water,
and I drank.

Then the well spoke to me.

It said: Abundance is scooped from abundance,
yet abundance remains.

Then I knew.







~ Anne Sexton
.
(Few established poets nowadays have a background as non-spectacular as that of Anne Sexton (1928-1974), a mediocre student who neither went to college nor formally studied literature. For a time she worked as a fashion model. Emotional, impetuous, she even eloped at the age of 19.
.
Anne Sexton began falling to pieces in her early 20’s after the births of her two daughters. Her psychiatrist recommended writing poetry as a form of therapy; she took to the typewriter at the age of 26 and never looked back.)


what's that


.
 
 
Before it came inside
I had watched it from my kitchen window,
watched it swell like a new balloon,
watched it slump and then divide,
like something I know I know —
a broken pear or two halves of the moon,
or round white plates floating nowhere
or fat hands waving in the summer air
until they fold together like a fist or a knee.
After that it came to my door. Now it lives here.
And of course: it is a soft sound, soft as a seal’s ear,
that was caught between a shape and a shape and then returned to me.
 
 
You know how parents call
from sweet beaches anywhere, come in come in
and how you sank under water to put out
the sound, or how one of them touched in the hall
at night: the rustle and the skin
you couldn’t know, but heard, the stout
slap of tides and the dog snoring. It’s here
now, caught back from time in my adult year —
the image we did forget: the crackling shells on our feet
or the swing of the spoon in soup. It is as real
as splinters stuck in your ear. The noise we steal
is half a bell. And outside cars whisk by on the suburban street
 
 
and are there and are true.
What else is this, this intricate shape of air?
calling me, calling you.
 
 
 
 
~ Anne Sexton
.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

The divine will



.
The divine will
is a deep abyss
of which the present 
moment is the entrance.
If you plunge
into this abyss
you will find it
infinitely more vast
than your
desires.
.
~ Jean Pierre de Caussade
(French Jesuit who in the 18th century coined the phrase
"the sacrament of the present moment."  
He said,
"It is necessary to disengage from all we feel and do
in order to walk with God in the duty of the present moment...")
.
.

The Pentecost Castle (excerpt)


.

I shall go down
to the lovers' well
and wash this wound
that will not heal

beloved soul
what shall you see
nothing at all
yet eye to eye

depths of non-being
perhaps too clear
my desire dying
as I desire



~ Geoffrey Hill


You who want


.
.
You who want
knowledge,
seek the Oneness
within
.
There you
will find
the clear mirror
already waiting
.
~ Hadewijch II
art by Picasso
.

Tighten


.
 
 
Tighten
to nothing
the circle
that is
the world's things.
 
Then the Naked
circle
can grow wide,
enlarging,
embracing all
 
 
 
 
~ Hadewijch II
 
 
 

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

A Blessing



.
May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work you do 
with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light, 
and renewal to those who work with you 
and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment,
 inspiration, and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in the bland absences.
May the day never burden.
May dawn find you awake and alert, 
approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities, and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered. and protected.
May your soul calm, console, and renew you.



~ John O'Donohue
(John said, "the soul is not in the body;
 rather the body is to be found in the soul.)
.

stretching out toward God




When you go apart to be alone for prayer, put from your mind 
everything you have been doing or plan to do.  
Reject all thoughts, be they good or be they evil.  
Do not pray with words unless you are really drawn to this; 
or if you do pray with words, pay no attention to whether they are many or few.  
Do not weigh them or their meaning. 
 Do not be concerned about what kind of prayers you use, 
for it is unimportant whether or not they are official liturgical prayers, 
psalms, hymns, or anthems; whether they are for particular or general intentions; 
or  whether you formulate them interiorly, by thoughts, 
or express them aloud, in words.  
See that nothing remains in your conscious mind 
save a naked intent stretching out toward God.





from chapter 1 of The Book of Privy Counseling
by an anonymous fourteenth-century English author



The Fall


.
.
There is no where in you a paradise that is no place and there
You do not enter except without a story.
.
To enter there is to become unnameable.
...
Whoever is nowhere is nobody, and therefore cannot exist
except unborn:
No disguise will avail him anything
.
Such a one is neither lost nor found.
.
But he who has an address is lost.
...
Who would dare to go nameless in so secure a universe?
Yet, to tell the truth, only the nameless are at home in it.
.
They bear with them in the center of nowhere the unborn
flower of nothing:
This is the paradise tree.  It must remain unseen until words
end and arguments are silent.
.
~ Thomas Merton
(excerpt from The Fall)
.

Are you looking for me?


.
.
Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat. 
My shoulder is against yours.
.
You will not find me in the stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms, 
nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
.
not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding
around your own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
.
When you really look for me, you will see me.
instantly -- you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
.
Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God?
.
He is the breath inside the breath.
.
~ Kabir
.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

In Silence



.
Be still.
Listen to the stones of the wall.
Be silent, they try
To speak your
.
Name.
Listen 
to the living walls.
Who are you?
Who
are you? Whose
Silence are you?
.
Who (be quiet)
Are you (as these stones
Are quiet.) Do not
Think of what you are
Still less of
What you may one day be.
Rather
Be what you are (but who?) be
The unthinkable one
You do not know.
.
~ Thomas Merton
(excerpt from In Silence)
.
.

I loved what I could love




I had a natural passion for fine clothes, excellent food, and
lively conversation about all matters that concern
the heart still alive.  And even a passion 
about my own 
looks.

Vanities: they do not exist.

Have you ever walked across a stream stepping on
rocks so not to spoil a pair of shoes?

All we can touch, swallow, or say
aids in our crossing to God
and helps unveil the 
soul.

Life smooths us, rounds, perfects, as does the river the stone,
and there is no place our Beloved is not flowing
though the current's force you
may not always
like.

Our passions help to lift us.

I loved what I could love until I held Him,
for then - all things - every world
disappeared.



~ Saint Teresa of Avila




The Inner History of a Day


.
.
We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,
Transforming our broken fragments
Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.
.
Somewhere in us a dignity presides
That is more gracious than the smallness
That fuels us with fear and force,
A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.
.
So at the end of this day, we give thanks
For being betrothed to the unknown
And for the secret work
Through which the mind of the day
And wisdom of the soul become one.
.
~ John O'Donohue
(excerpt from The Inner History of a Day)
.