Welcome to Poetry Party #71!
I select an image (*photo above by fellow monk in the world Claudia Gregoire) and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your own poem. Scroll down and add it in the comments section below or join our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group and post there.
Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog (if you have one), Facebook, or Twitter, and encourage others to come join the party! (If you repost the photo, please make sure to include the credit link below it and link back to this post inviting others to join us).
We began this month with a Community Lectio Divina practice and followed up with our Photo Party on the theme of “Softening and Yielding.” (You are most welcome to still participate). We continue this theme in our Poetry Party this month.
Here in the northern hemisphere it is autumn which calls us into the journey of surrender, release, and radical yielding of our own agendas, into the holy direction of letting our grasp soften and open and be spacious, welcoming in whatever comes.
You can post your poem either in the comment section below*or you can join our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group (with over 700 members!) and post there.
*Note: If this is your first time posting, or includes a link, your comment will need to be moderated before it appears. This is to prevent spam and should be approved within 24 hours.
You can see the fall calendar of invitations here>>
*Photo by Claudia Gregoire
41 Responses
Autumn is a time of wisdom,
A time of yielding.
Green has masked the truth.
No longer able to give life,
Color of the inner world emerges
Before returning to the soil.
This is a powerful expression!
The Journey
The crossed journey of
losing a loved one, a dad
or a mom,
is fraught with disbelief,
shock, crazed fear at
not having a home
anymore, now where
are we born?
It’s permanence is
complete in its own
way, as the lingering
pain we are left with,
enduring, lasting,
woven into patterns
unknown
What do we make of
healing, of the journey
to wholeness,
weaving together the
fragmented parts of
our experience, of us,
of our memories
and hopes?
Life and death
intertwined in
their questioning and
longing for what no longer
is. Death of the loved
one, and death of a life
once lived. Remnants
of yesteryear plague our
mind and renew our
hope that love lives
within.
And we remember
as we travel towards
their path and their
victory.
whether you graciously lay
or belly flop in
you can’t control how wet you get
or how big or far the circles you make
yet
the lake eternally speaks of the memory of your body
let the lake tell you how it felt with your company
love ….
Slight though its weight
the leaf sunk in flight,
lit here,
once borne by air but now by current,
till earth pulls it under.
As we
are born in flight, borne by current,
till we land,
till we sink, soul
light as leaf,
into the same
deep dream.
Parting
Today is a day to weep for a friend:
for what came to pass,
for what may have been.
Today is a day to weep for yourself:
for who will depart,
for who will remain.
Today is a day to weep for a loss:
for that which is torn,
for that which is mourned.
Today is a day to weep for the years
between kirsch bloom in Spring
and fruit picking time.
Today is a day to weep for a friend.
I went a bit of different direction with this. Autumn is a time of death or rest for much of Creation. It is now also the time of my father’s passing. This leaf on water took me to a darker place than usual as I walk out this exquisite grief.
I fight, I cry against this darkening fear
That tears my soul and bids me slip away.
I look for aught, for someone to come near
And bring a sliver of a better day.
Yet, crashing in, deep grief comes, wave on roll,
Knocking me under, there to drown in pain.
It seems a better a place, I shall let go
And sink beneath the darkness once again.
Sinking down, the silence wraps around me,
Pressing in with weight upon my fear.
Unshackling the darkness that surrounds me,
Silence brings the Voice I long to hear.
Tis Jesus, author of all that I treasure,
The Wounded One, who understands this deep.
The One who comforts with a love unmeasured,
Born of a grief that made His Father weep.
And there, in silence deep within the veil
While pressing hard against His risen light
I understand the beauty of the nail
That brings His comfort to my trembling night.
This really touched my heart. Thank you for expressing things in words I had failed to express.
Oh, Janet, I am so grateful it touched your heart. The best thing I know to do with pain is let the Father of our hearts turn it to His glory and our good. I have been holding on to a trembling thread of grace, but knowing He is still using words, His words through me, strengthens me. So thank YOU.
Beautiful Robin, truly a deep sharing
After revisiting this painting I tweaked it and in that process I softened and yielded to the memory of that special place in Wales. It was along a pilgrim’s path and as I walked it the sea mist and fog would roll in and out, revealing beauty and then shrouding it.
This is so beautiful, Amy! I want to hover like a bird in that space, in that moment that you have captured, just “softening and yielding” to the light. I can almost hear the distant sound of the waves. Thank you!
Dreamy, contemplative…I love this!
River Moods
Her course runs straight and true,
softly, unfettered, free.
She meets a bend and begins to object
but knowing that the turn will be made,
noisily, spluttering, sloshing against the banks
as the water twists and becomes enraged.
A fallen tree obstructs her path
but futile in its attempt to curb her course.
She is vexed by this hindrance
but then laughs at all impediments.
On her journey, she can take time to play,
rippling over stones, again and again,
while gleefully she sings and dances,
chasing fairy sparkles shimmering in the light.
Her course runs straight and true again.
Carelessly, still free.
Lovely!
Twas a Falling Leaf
A falling leaf was cut astray
from the comfort
of belonging to the whole
trunk, branch and limb
Birth was formed from a seed
in bedded in the ground
growing roots into the rich soil
Sun and Moon, dusk to dawn
its umbilical cord grew tall
with pride reaching the sky
swaying to the change of its seasons
Strong roots weaved above the ground
bearing its age of old from weather storms
releasing the veins of tension it released
the Leaves that must fall.
Sharon E. Hannan
Time has its way
of pulling you backward
pressing you forward.
You have to resist
the season’s yin and yang
be content to let the current be
beneath you.
The moment you yield
always softens your landing.
And an alternative version that I think I like better:
Time has its way
of pulling you backward
pressing you forward.
You have to resist
the season’s yin and yang
be content to let the current be
beneath you
the moment you yield
softening your landing.