Invitation to Poetry: Practicing Resurrection
April 13, 2009 · by Christine
The Poetry Party is returning with our 33rd one! I fasted from them for Lent so I could return to them during this Easter season with renewed energy. I have been contemplating some ways to shift how I do this to simplify the process a bit and am trying out a new system.
This is how it works: I select an image and suggest a title and invite you to respond with your poems or other reflections. If you have your own blog, please use the Mister Linky widget below to add a link back to your website and then add your poem to the comments below. If you don’t have your own blog (not required to participate), please skip Mister Linky and just go straight to the comments section to add your poem. Make sure to check the comments for new poems added and I encourage you to leave encouraging comments for each other either here or at the poet’s own blog.
I’ll add your contributions all week and then I will draw a name at random on Friday morning from everyone who participates and will send the winner a copy of my newest zine Illuminating Mystery: Creativity as a Spiritual Practice. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog and encourage others to come join the party!
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This week’s theme: Practicing Resurrection
A few years ago it occurred to me that we spend a lot of time in church talking about what practices to take on for Lent, but when Easter comes, this glorious season of resurrection, we often slip back into our ordinary lives and everyday prayer. Hopefully we arrive transformed by our Lenten journey, but the season of Easter is not just that amazing day when the tomb was discovered empty. We celebrate Easter for a full 50 days, days that slowly grow longer in the Northern hemisphere and more vibrant as the blossoming of the world unfolds around us.
As I pondered this topic, the image that immediately flashed into my mind is the one you see to the right — a little girl playing at the beach, giggling with delight. She is fully embodied in this moment, free of self-consciousness, fully herself, luminous.
I invite you to write a poem (or other form of reflection) about what your practices of resurrected life might look like. How would it feel to really embody resurrected life in your own being? If you made a commitment for the Easter season to complement your Lenten commitment, where is the invitation you discover?
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Remember! Click the link below to add your blog to the list and then post your poem in the comments section (if you don’t have a blog, just post your poem).
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** MISTER LINKY has been causing problems with this page loading so sadly I had to remove it **
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Please feel free to email me if you encounter any technical difficulties or have any questions!
© Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts:
Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
Posted in Poetry Party Invitation | 34 Comments »
April 13th, 2009 at 4:24 am
I was just wondering why I find Lent to be so much more comfortable! It’s hard, I find, to “let” (as though they happen by my will alone!) good things happen… I’ll have to give myself some space with this reflection but I’ll be keeping my eye on the words in response, searching for clues, trying to understand.
April 13th, 2009 at 8:48 am
A Resurrected Life
It is easy to live
a resurrected life
when cancer almost
snatched away the one I had.
The whole world looks new.
A freshness,
every small beauty
to be noticed.
It even surprises me
that I have a life to lead,
poems to write,
dreams to follow.
Taken to the edge,
now I can
back away
from that cliff,
Run in the meadows,
and throw myself down
among the wildflowers.
These are days of celebration,
Days of joy,
days of resurrection.
April 13th, 2009 at 9:12 am
Pam, your poem breathes resurrection. I especially love the image of you running in the meadow and throwing yourself down among that wild blossoming, such freedom, such life.
April 13th, 2009 at 9:13 am
Elizabeth, I look forward to seeing what emerges from your time of watching and tending.
April 13th, 2009 at 11:38 am
Surprising, Uprising
Up from the grave she will arise
clothed in garments woven from strands that are gathering,
gathering in.
Once naked and ashamed, she sinned and lived,
her apple-half eaten and discarded.
She turned from the garden,
and stumbled down,
down
down below the dirt
beneath the unknowable
under the inexpressible,
and will stay buried there
until the trumpet sounds
and the dead arise.
Do you not believe that the dead in you will rise?
That you will begin to stir
and remember
that there is nothing,
not even the sting of death
that can stop the power of this gathering strength,
this rising,
this resurrection?
April 13th, 2009 at 1:23 pm
Many Tongues, One Voice
Seek first the kingdom before
anything was the word.
Realm found in most unusual
places, among markings that tell
something, that imitates more
and imparts less. But on some days
they are ten for a dollar. Then on another
they are two for three dollars.
Who do people say that I am?
is as good as a greeter at Wal-Mart
not comatose in some aisle but dying
with dignity. Grasping at straws is
dissimilar to grabbing for loved ones.
Wills read are not the same as eulogies said.
Family is always there and wondering
who got what. Moses taking off sandals
is what made the ground sacred-
the fire always speaks.
I am.
April 13th, 2009 at 2:07 pm
Hi all. I’ve lived one of those kinds of lives where resurrection has been a tangible thing rather than a concept. Bob Dylan wrote: “I’ve escaped death so many times I know I’m only living/By the saving grace that’s over me.” Without providing you with any detail, that’s my story.
RESURRECTION
After months
flat on my back
I began
my return
to life
in a nursing home
in a wheel chair
under a shower
with a tender
Muslim aide
aiming the spray
of hot water
onto my head.
The pleasure
was so intense
I saw stars
and shivered
and laughed
and shouted
Al-Hamdu Lillah!
Thanks be to God!
And the aide
lit up
to join
my glee
and whispered
Al-Hamdu Lillah
as he ran
a washcloth
across my chest.
RW
April 13th, 2009 at 2:28 pm
Resurrection
“Resurrection, the reversal of what
was thought to be absolute. The turning…”
Molly Fumia from A Grateful Heart
Resurrection, to rise again when
staying down might seem easier,
or the more prudent thing to do.
Resurrection, to get up, take a few steps,
inhale deeply the fragrant air
of spring, to wander outside
the magic circle of protection
around you to the place where
there are no guarantees.
Resurrection—to start out
newly or in a new direction
or in an old one with renewed
vigor and commitment.
(It is said that cats have
nine lives—might we have more?)
Resurrection—the second chances
that become extraordinary
because we took them—we
rose up, said, “Yes,
here I am
again—make way.”
Janice Lawry
April 13th, 2009 at 4:55 pm
I played with haiku, thinking a little about order and chaos…here’s what I came up with:
Warm sand under foot
Gentle breezes move the air
My heart soars to you
In a breeze, a storm
a quiet moment, a breath
where life is, you are
(bonus Easter haiku, since I was in the mood:)
The darkest Friday
A Saturday in silence
Sunday’s dawn–joy!
April 13th, 2009 at 6:25 pm
i can feel the freedom.
like the sand between my toes.
i shiver.
with excitement?
or remorse?
both
maybe.
i inhale, deeply.
a cool breeze fills my lungs
makes me feel alive.
even though I cough a little………
i trudge forward.
the choice, is to keep moving.
never waver.
Focus.
my feet are tired.
my mind heavy.
but I move.
never looking back!!
except once in awhile……….
i am only human after all.
the tracks i leave show the distance i have already traveled.
my body is weak.
but my spirit is strong!
battered
banged up.
bruised.
yes.
optimistic
over flowing with hope
open to newness
YES!!!
I am a SURVIVOR!
Stand back!
and
you
will
see.
~ Nichol ~
April 13th, 2009 at 9:39 pm
Hi all–
I like using Mr. Linky…so easy! But I like getting on here and reading all the comments, as we did in the ‘old days’!
Just posted my poem through Mr. Linky. It’s a little twisted, but it’s what came out!
Thanks for the prompt, Christine–
April 13th, 2009 at 9:59 pm
i find in each of the participants new and own reflections of earthly human resurrections that lighten up my understanding of this miracle
this easter sunday i focused my meditation on the women’s shock when finding an opened tomb; their pain and fears instantly turned into an almost unbelieveable certainty.
my apologies, for sending, again, my text in spanish.
evitando el silencio, el dolor y la duda,
el rocío cercaba algo nuevo. un lugar vacío
que los signos de Dios llenaban.
todo callaba menos el ángel,
mirándolas igual que sonriera,
contempló su desconcierto de pesadumbre lejana.
dolor, duda y silencio ya no eran tal:
resucitó.
April 13th, 2009 at 10:18 pm
I feel such new life burgeoning in me already by reading these beautiful words! I will respond to each one individually when I have a few moments, but for now I just say — keep bringing on the beauty! Thanks for sharing your incredible gifts and love of poetry.
April 14th, 2009 at 7:37 am
Such a timely invitation Christine as I have been feeling a bit bereft after the structured discipline of Lent and asking myself “What now?” Not that I have any answers yet but I enjoyed the discipline of pondering (informed by Victoria Barnett’s characterisation of those who refused to stand by as the atrocities of Nazism unfolded as people with a vision that “compelled them to be attentive, to see that they had a personal stake in what was happening around them” (cited by Harvey, Can these bones live? p.93-94):
Resurrection gift
You live
How do I now live
in this rich depleted place
information-filled and justice-empty?
Responding to an invitation
not fully understood
a poor recording of your voice
Undertaking to find out
what is going on around me
being attentive
Fifty days to connect
inextricably with context
holding a stake
What gift!
April 14th, 2009 at 10:46 am
http://thisfarbyfaith.blogspot.com/2009/04/poetry-party-33.html
this time I posted under my new, alternate login, “river song”. I am so happy the Poetry Parties have returned. Christ is risen indeed!
April 14th, 2009 at 1:29 pm
….for some years, I have taken courage from a verse written by Wendell Berry: ‘Be like the fox, who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection….’
A more recent and personal experience, I expressed this way in verses not yet complete; it came in response to an Advent post at a friend’s blog called ‘Raising the Ruins’
All that was, knocked down
happens in families too –
what price redemption?
Letting go the old
looking forward together
yields harvested field.
Landscape cleared and fresh
former memories shrivel
new foundations laid.
Blended paces birth –
quietly, slowly, measured
resurrection comes.
April 14th, 2009 at 3:27 pm
….this site became a large part of my lenten journey and I thank you for that. It will definatly be something that I keep as part of my daily journey from here!
So here is my go at adding to the wonderful poetry already here. It is based on my sons response to the Easter vigil Mass.
8 years old
for 40 days, gave up video games
with strong commitment
yet still wondering
each day he asked
“how long?”
but never broke his fast
Easter vigil
listening quietly in the dark
suddenly the lights-on
the look on his face
“ah ha, it all made sense”
I asked “what just happened”
his one word reply
“LIFE”
April 14th, 2009 at 7:06 pm
They gather behind closed doors,
leaving behind, at least for a short while,
those who too easily hurl insults and objects and disrespect.
They speak with honesty of life’s hard blows,
mincing no words,
sharing Good Friday stories,
telling of scenes no human eye or soul ought ever to witness.
Yet under this pain,
lingering at the edges,
seeping up from within
is hope:
hope that wears a tough facade,
hope that understands the importance of boundaries,
hope that believes violence doesn’t have the last word,
hope that finds strength in sharing one’s story in a safe community,
hope that hopes within there is still a young girl free to run on the beach,
hope that offers resurrection in the hard places of life.
Who are these women?
the first apostles?
our neighbors?
our friends?
April 15th, 2009 at 1:05 am
Twilight Resurrection
Luminous,
dancing with a golden mirth
She skips across the sun-soaked beach,
splaying her toes, softly burrowing
into velvety sand, then splashing,
splashing ~ making iridescent ripples
in a silent and silvery sea
that seems to come from
beyond twilight
She sparkles in a dusky sunset,
appearing simultaneously
miniscule and monumental.
April 15th, 2009 at 1:49 pm
Welcome back, Abbey! Here is mine, as I remember my California beginnings:
Luminous days of summer sun,
Salt spray, Hot sand, Cool breeze,
me on the shore,
Anticipating.
The family reclining behind me ,
Preetty Sisters, Scratchy Blankets, Beach Boys
me on the shore,
Pretending.
Mother anxious, Daddy hopeful
Bright Towels, Radio Static, Picnic Basket,
me on the shore,
Shivering.
Shaking with fear-tinged joy,
New Swimsuit, Curling Waves, Cold Splash,
me on the shore,
Toes curling.
Running, gasping with exhilaration,
Sweet Laughter, Happy Shouts, Burning Eyes,
me in the surf,
Topsy-turvey.
Remembered like years are nothing,
Passing Childhood, Fractured Family, Lost Security
me in the surf,
Feeling little.
Somewhere innside my thoughts are,
Determined Faith, Stubborn Hope and God’s love
me in the world,
Wondering.
When will the final day arrive,
Last Ending, Spirit Crossing, Eternal Beginning,
me with Father God,
Resurrected?
Jesus smiling down at me with,
Warm Recognition, Open Welcome, Outstretched Hand,
me a child again,
Beginning.
April 15th, 2009 at 4:45 pm
easter sunday,1969.i called home from japan and spoke with my father. “dad,i’ve been shot and don’t have to go back to nam again.” “no,it’s not serious.just my hand,really just a couple of fingers.” “i don’t believe there’s any value in war and won’t carry a weapon again.” “it’s going to take some time but i believe that i’ll get my head staight.i need to go out to the cottage and swim.” “hope to see you soon.”many lives were lost and damaged on the field of battle that day.i was lucky? and walked away.
April 15th, 2009 at 7:14 pm
Stunning poems! Those of you with blogs, I have responded at your own sites.
Linda, I love the movement of your poem and the feminine dimension of resurrection. Those last two questions are so beautiful
Tom, you always offer such thought-provoking imagery, this is a great collection of imagery that make me stop and ponder.
Jan, love that opening quote and your own final line, such a perfect balance and journey in between.
Nichol, there is such power in your poem and the claiming of new life.
isa, never apologize for sharing your poetry in your beautiful native tongue. I love the music of these words.
Carolyn, I love the Berry quote, hadn’t heard that one before. “quietly, slowly, measured” is a very moving line to me.
thanks bobbi, I appreciate the gracious words. Your poem gave me such a smile to honor the wisdom of the young.
mike, thanks for this moving dialogue and entering into the grace of memory.
Thank you wonderful poets! I am blessed by these words and keep the poems coming!
April 15th, 2009 at 9:28 pm
Were the first disciples skipping rocks
when Jesus came calling?
Instead of immediately saying “follow me”,
did he hold his tongue, the better part of valor?
Did he hear “be still and know” from his Father who art in heaven,
urging the only begotten to see and know…
to witness a side-armed throw and one-footed release;
to listen to rocks cry out three, four, five times before
finally saying “it is finished”;
to hear men laughing like boys as dusk lingers;
to see what “he is not here” would mean for all men.
April 15th, 2009 at 9:43 pm
Wow! I love so many of the poems this week. (My own offering can be found via Mr Linky–much easier for us and Christine, or so I suspect.)
Pam, your poem especially touched me as it mirrors so much of what I’m living now.
Thank you all
April 16th, 2009 at 2:12 am
Now, I post my poem here as well as linking it with that cute thingummy?
I’m Lynne, from Sydney Australia (where Easter comes in autumn), and I’m glad I found this blog. The poems I’ve just read, and the lives that lie behind them, are truly awesome ..
Resurrection
I shall no longer shadow-lurk
In the dim, grim darkness,
In my manifold mortality:
He has rolled away the stone.
Here, eager-footed forwards,
Into laughter-chiming light
While the waves call alleluia
And the world is glory-glad.
Not looking back, tomb-tethered,
When His wonder stretches forth
Fluid as love Himself,
Deep as desire.
Someday, star-dancing,
All is finally finished,
Now, in this liminal loveliness
Learning faith’s footing.
Embrace awaits, at the end of the sand journey,
Plunging into Him,
Knowing Life lives, grace-cadenced,
In my Lord.
April 16th, 2009 at 4:39 am
Okay. I’m trying this new process of writing in the “Comments” section. Hope this works! It’s my only copy of this new poem. It’s frustrating for me, that I can’t seem to cut and paste. Maybe that’s teaching me something, too. ML.
Having had my feet washed
on Thursday, His tender feet
pierced on Friday,
Monday morning We leap forward,
(lights blink briefly in an empty tomb
my past life echoes no more)
TODAY sings praise into the dawn!
Hope says “Come away with me”
and I will, my rested feet land on the floor, skipping
I will dance and sing “Come away with me,”
a new life has begun
my feet are Light
This is our song: Our God reigns!
April 16th, 2009 at 4:41 am
Christine,
I awoke to a few edits in mind; the revision is on my blog.
Thanks again for the prompt,
John (Dirty Shame)
April 16th, 2009 at 7:01 am
I love the poetry party! Just saying!
Beautiful stuff, everyone.
April 16th, 2009 at 9:21 am
For Richard -
Your poem was very moving and vivid. Before the poem, you wrote, “resurrection has been a tangible thing rather than a concept”. It is clear that you know this story in your bones. It is a wonderful thing to be able to recognize this gift of starting again in our lives.
Alhamdulilah!
Pam
April 16th, 2009 at 8:39 pm
The glossy iridescence of the sleek crow
showers resurrection into life
that looked black from a distance.
You are my messenger.
You are my reminder of the isness of all things.
You, who are as common as mud,
luminous spectre
I ascend with you, blind no longer,
to the myriad prisms we scatter into
if only we risk to look more deeply.
April 16th, 2009 at 8:53 pm
morning settles on the hills,
the earth catches the sky
then holds it there,
the day goes on,
a row of trees agree to name the place,
fallen.
i rise.
April 17th, 2009 at 2:52 pm
Martha Louise, thanks for being willing to try, you did beautifully. Email me if you need help with the copying and pasting, I can let you know how that works if you have a PC (not a Mac). There is such a glorious joyfulness to your words!
Kathy, crows are one of the harbingers of wisdom for me as well and you have written an exquisite ode to the transformation of our ability to see and the crow’s gift to us.
Laure, thank you for this stunning evocation of the dawn, the gift of the One who is the morning star. Your poem makes my heart rise.
Thank you again to all of the beautiful poets who gather here and bless this space with your words.
April 17th, 2009 at 11:22 pm
Richard ~ your poem is wonderful. I like the title of your blog, too. Congrats to you (I could not comment on your blog, so I leave the comment here).
To all poets here, lovely words. They all inspired me in some way.
April 24th, 2009 at 1:48 pm
Echoes of Beethoven’s Ninth
as I run joyfully
to you.
Sprinkled with sounds
of child-like laughter
bubbling.
Creating the moment
of opening.
In that liminal
place between land and sky
ashes and baptism.