Welcome to Poetry Party Number 35!
I select an image and suggest a theme/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. If you don’t have your own blog (not required to participate) or if you just want to post your poem here, please skip Mister Linky and 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.
Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog if you have one and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint the image if a link is provided back to this post)
On Friday, I will draw a name at random from those who participate and send the winner a copy of my newest zine Illuminating Mystery: Creativity as a Spiritual Practice.
*************************
The Poetry Party Theme:
Lately I have been contemplating the sacred feminine and sacred masculine as integral elements of my spiritual path and practice. One dimension of these is what Richard Rohr calls the "Sacred Yes" and the "Sacred No". The feminine with its archetype of welcoming, nurturing, enfolding energy is the Sacred Yes of our lives — all those things, people, and opportunities we embrace. The masculine with its archetype of boundary setting and protection (think warrior) is the Sacred No of our lives — the healthy setting of limits and protectors of our gifts and energies so we don't over-extend ourselves.
I have been very much in a season of yes lately, welcoming and embracing many amazing opportunities that have come my way. Just in the last couple of weeks I am feeling more of a draw again to contemplate the places of no in my life. The opportunities to which I am not being called right now or which take energy away from the yeses to which I have committed myself fully. Accompanying my meditation on the Sacred No has been the image of the Guardian of the Threshold. These allies and companions are much like the gargoyles and statuary placed at the entrances to European buildings to ward off evil spirits. Our own internal guardians are those fierce aspects of ourselves that help us to clarify what is life-draining and what we need to release to live fully and help to maintain those boundaries. The photo was taken in Riga, Latvia last summer on our ancestral pilgrimage.
What does your own Guardian of the Threshold look like? What is he or she helping you to say no to? What is the yes that needs protecting these days?
_____________________________________
** MISTER LINKY has been causing problems with this page loading so sadly I had to remove it **
_____________________________________
© Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts:
Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
Become a fan of the Abbey on Facebook, follow this blog on Facebook, friend me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter
You may also like:
- Water, Wind, Earth, & Fire is a "Best Spiritual Book"!
- Spirituality Resources
- this week's winner. . .
- Holy Darkness (5)
- Invitation to Poetry: Wings Spread
The Mother – the Guardian – the Child
The Flower – the Fruit – The Seed
May we understand all our days
As the teachings of your ways
So that they might all find favor with Thee
……with deep thanks to Mary Oliver:
THE JOURNEY
One day youu finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
'Mend my life!'
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road was full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left them behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.
My guardian
she sits up on the precipice
silent … watching
protecting my soul
enveloping me in her arms
loving me
she speaks but a soft sound
"Shhh"
in stillness she lets me know
I will be well
in my "yes" and in my "no"
she is there
to guide … to protect
to listen to the heart of my soul
still … quiet … watching
WHAT'S A SURVIVOR TO DO
"I've escaped death so many times, I know I'm only living
By the saving grace that's over me."
Bob Dylan
Saving Grace
I was born
on the feast day
of the Guardian Angels.
How they got that day,
I don't know.
How I got that day?
Biology.
My Aunt Theresa told me
I'd always be taken care of -
I've never had any reason
to doubt her, but
Who's taking care of me?
The universe knows no mercy;
Guardian Angels are comforting,
but childish;
Fortune is as much
a stumble-bum as I've
ever been;
Fate? No thank you,
nothing is written;
His saving grace? I haven't
switched columns here, I'm
still listing fancy, not fact,
and to think I'm better protected
than the guy who just went up
in shrapnel and smoke is just
arrogance.
The idea of a Guardian
belies any logic, but
"it's just the way it is,"
is so drab.
The Guardian at my Threshold
is a little yappy dog–a Lhasa Apso–
bred to protect by making a noisy
threatening fuss, and then
to calm down and wag her tail
in welcome when the traveler drops
her suitcase full of fears
and holds out a handfull of trust.
This traveler is learning trust
Thanks, Christine. This is fun….
Winged Medicine
When the dead crow
was placed in the trash-
a perfect wing stretched
to greet me.
Twisting the appendage like a branch
it broke in my hand.
A gift so powerful
I dropped it to the ground.
Certain on some plain
it was in flight.
When Thresholds Break
Hidden behind my bravado’s stone demeanor,
buried deep within my heart’s chiseled vault,
fear imprisons the truth of our regard for love.
Brazen youth boasts as if carved from granite.
Polished maturity cringes at the slightest fault.
In shameful tears I cry out, “Break me, please”.
Pride; crusted slabs so seldom pried apart,
I seek righteousness to help me come to grips.
Instead grace, unafraid of pasty vulnerability,
with her own underbelly bared and scarred
is made ready for my amputated fingertips,
I hear her joy cry freely, “Break me too, please”
Wow – you couldn't have caught my attention more! I am a collector of Dragons, and a (one-quarter) Lithuanian too – a dragon guardian from neighboring Latvia just couldn't have been better designed to get my attention!
The Watcher – a Rubayick
The watcher guards the portal true
a blade of steel, a bow of yew
permitting nought an evil spate
allowing life and blessing through
The watcher sits beside the gate
accept, deny – for neither wait
the ruling comes with no delay
decision swift is watcher's trait
In watcher meet welcome and warding
The joining of giving and hoarding
the giver accepts
receptor projects
in each is the other a-borning
the watcher made the open way
He passed through night into the day
He will reopen Golden Gate
Eternal truth He will display
Guardian of the Threshold
the wall extends into the misty mountains
where signal-keepers watch warily
as the madoffs steadily advance
ready for a frontal assault
stealing the liminal and marketing it
seduction causes a wall to crumble
as the sweet music of comfort calls
singing a hymn of joy to the world
the guardian rushes to defend
the child tempted by the sparkle
and luminosity of the siren song
roaring with anger
striking at tables topped with filth
the guardian casts a sacred net
stopping the advance
for today
My Lovely Dragon
Now I surprise myself
by voicing my fiesty "no's"
and bold requests for help
no pussy footing around
with apologetic niceities
Who is this dragon woman?
And what did she do with
the all too gently kind woman
I used to be?
But this dragon lady within
Is clear and brash and wonderful
Funny and large, bitchy and real
I think I could get used to this….
She has warmth in her fire
And grace in her gutsiness
such goodness & grit
where in the hell has she been all these years?
Now I surprise my friends
But I'm tired of treading so lightly
the eggshells can be crushed as I walk
And I can be who I really am….
All day and night
the ants pray the labyrinth
little peony monks
earnestly and patiently
believing in the bud.
Bette Norcross Wappner (b'oki)
The Guardian
My guardian
has become my jailer.
He won't let go,
He feeds my ego.
O Liberator!
Come quickly.
I am weakening,
My breath short and shallow.
Come now, my Savior!
Fulfill your promise.
Accept my heart and soul,
Contrite, broken, humbled.
For you are my true Guardian,
Not me nor any other man.
You alone give life
To anyone who offers you his life.
Shelley – I love everything about your 'lovely dragon'; she has great resonance for me.
Shelley, I have to second Carolyn; your poem really speaks to me!
Watching my husband cooly
cope with my/not his 15 year old girl-child
out of control
out of the boundaries
enraged, lashing
humbles and steps me back from
my own edge.
Later
He and she are instep to instep
ready for engagement
the rules are pointed and brutish.
Learned from him,
I firmly step between and
slash the trance.
We live to love and do battle another day
she stood there on the threshold
holding open the screen door
contemplating the consequences should she
defy her mother's edict to
"put your shoes on before you go outside!"
the sensation of bare feet on
weathered porch boards warmed by the sun
sealed her fate
this is what it feels like
to know my own mind, she thought
as the screen door slammed behind her
who guards the inner spaces
of my soul,
where the yeses and the no’s
of being
come to birth?
who sets the boundaries
for me,
or do they simply
merge into a nothingness of being
where the chaos unguarded
flows
to a torrent
force
spilling out
across the flood plains
of life…
What an amazing gathering here already and it is only Tuesday morning! Thank you for all of your poetic beauty and brilliance.
_________________________
kigen, I love those two trinities you begin with and the prayer of the heart you offer here.
_________________________
Carolyn, this is such a treasure from Mary Oliver, I have always loved the image of the "new voice / which you slowly / recognized as your own."
_________________________
Paul Tomlinson, thank you for this beautiful window into the your guardian. I love how she embraces both energies helping you to listen deeply.
_________________________
Richard, I love your poem and left a longer comment at your blog.
_________________________
Barbara, what a delightful guardian you have with the roar of a lion to defend against those fears and a body of a sweet love welcoming in that trust. You are most welcome! I adore the Poetry Parties, loads of fun.
_________________________
Tom Delmore, your crow is a potent talisman, holding the wound and the rising together in its feathered extension.
_________________________
Dez, your words are very powerful, potent even. I experience both the stone-hard resistance and the tender surrender to a whole new way of being.
_________________________
Grady, your opening comment made me smile. I am one-quarter Latvian (father's father) and it is where my father was born. I love your use of poetic form and rhyme to create a sense of structure within your poem itself to support the words you reflect on. Beautiful.
_________________________
Terri, this is such a wonderful sequence of images, like a series of jewels along a set of prayer beads.
_________________________
Shelley, your poem made me smile so much, especially this line "I think I could get used to this" — indeed sister, let's all try to get used to that inner dragon lady ready to be fierce.
_________________________
Bette, I left my comment at your blog for your wonderful poem.
_________________________
Monkheart, oh how that guardian can become the one who imprisons us if we are not careful. Thank you for this heartfelt prayer of searching for the true one, the genuine guardian.
_________________________
Beth, I left a comment at the Teahouse for you.
_________________________
stacy wills, such beautiful and powerful words, I was standing there on that threshold with her weighing in my mind the consequences of living into myself fully, knowing there will always be those behind me screaming that I need to carry something else with me for protection.
_________________________
These poems are so stunning, you have really taken the theme in such wonderful directions. Can't wait to read more?
The guardian stands
Protecting
Preserving
Promising
Sanity and solitude
Safety and sanctuary
In the midst of a severe storm
It cues me to cross the threshold from chaos
Into a labrynth of peace
Where I can walk and breathe and just be
This sentinel is an image of strength
To hang on
To be resourceful
To not go it alone
As this guard sits alongside our rocky path
I will stand
My family will stand
Prepared to find patience
And to protect peace.
–Karla 5/12/09
No Threshold
Where are You
when I am left bereft
Where are You
under my dreams and wishes and cares
wanderings and fears
the bleeding
that will not stop
the wounds
that do not end
the evil that keeps penetrating
through
my
life
that I must allow in
to protect this precious one
Where are You in my heart
and my mind
that will not allow the darkness
to cross into me
Where are You
where I am me
as You made me
Where are You
Where am I
Lost
Yet in Your hands
slay me
heal me
Your love
reaches
me
forever
beyond
and
beneath
this
abyss
til
there
is
nothing
left
but
You
in
me
Karla, lovely images here, I love the vibrancy of the verbs and the sense of strength gained.
Eugenie, where are you? is such a potent and tender question, I love your movement here toward the union of all that is.
Thank you both, such beauty and gentleness here.
GREAT poems! I especially resonated with Stacy's…go for the warm sun on your feet and back! The Muses guard us when we don't enough to be afraid!!
Eugenie, your words moved me to tears. Simply perfect poetry in my eyes.
The Guardians of my Threshold are the Sacred Masculine and Sacred Feminine emergence of Lord Yeshua HaMashiach and Lady Marie Magdalene. They tell me NO to what this world tells me is true and YES to the fires of my desire; how I choose to live my life must be the only intention I wove around the Universe until it manifests soundly in reality.
SOUL TWINING
My beloved king, it's raining again
My mind races to you and once more our souls meet
Many delightful and sensual pictures play out
on the screens of the theatres of our hearts
You are my home and I wander aimlessly
lost between faith and fantasy
We keep our souls calling out to each other
holding on to dreams waiting to be manifested in reality
That sun dappled forest that was our playground still comes alive
Our Garden of Eden remains lush and green
Our Lord and Lady tends to our secret garden
The torn sash from my dress and hair ribbons are draped
across the branches of an apple tree to remind you of me
a softball and a worn threaded mitt remain on a wooden bench
to remind me of you
That was aeons ago when the twining of two souls split
there were many counterfeit incarnations yet we are still lost
the seductive trappings of Sheol shattered our innocence
our hearts closed and hardened to the disappointment and deceit
of the parts we reluctantly play on this stage of disillusionment
but my dear heart when the lights are out
the darkness and silence weaves our song
sleep shelters our souls and we remember love
a strong sweet truth that cannot die even in the midst
of our countless failures
My beloved king, it is raining again in our secret garden
we meet on the astral plane again playing in a midnight downpour