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Invitation to Poetry: In Praise of Detours

Welcome to the Abbey’s Poetry Party #56!

I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your own poem. Scroll down and add it in the comments section below. 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! (permission is granted to reprint the image if a link is provided back to this post)

On Sunday, March 25th, I will draw a name at random from the participants and the winner will receive a book of their choice.

This was my horoscope last week:

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Artist Richard Kehl tells the story of a teenage girl who got the chance to ask a question of the eminent psychologist Carl Jung. “Professor, you are so clever. Could you please tell me the shortest path to my life’s goal?” Without a moment’s hesitation Jung replied, “The detour!” I invite you to consider the possibility that Jung’s answer might be meaningful to you right now, Cancerian. Have you been churning out overcomplicated thoughts about your mission? Are you at risk of getting a bit too grandiose in your plans? Maybe you should at least dream about taking a shortcut that looks like a detour or a detour that looks like a shortcut. (reprinted from Free Will Astrology)

I shared last week about the grand adventure my husband and I will be embarking on this summer when we move to Vienna, Austria.  I read the words above and smiled.  This feels very much like a “detour” that will bring us closer and more directly to our life dream than any amount of carefully laid plans could and straight roads can.  The word for detour in German is “Umweg”, which esentially means “the way around.”  So we have dubbed this year ahead: “Umwegjahr”, which in German means “Detour Year.”  It is not technically a real word in German, but the German language throws together all kinds of words to create new meanings.

For this week’s Poetry Party, I invite you my dear fellow monks and artists, to write a poem in praise of detours.  Rarely is the path as straight as the image depicts.  You can describe one you have taken, or one you long to take.  Invite us into an experience of it with all our senses.

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44 Responses

  1. she knew
    her detours
    were rarely so straight,
    infrequently outlined

    she learned
    to be open to the lessons
    to gather them and echo them,
    as offering

    ‘give Me your hand
    be still and know I AM
    don’t forget to breathe
    all will be well
    in the fullness of time
    the answer is thank you
    always we begin again’

    she is
    coming to believe
    detour is another word
    for
    the scenic route

  2. So often the detour appears to be a distraction and an annoyance.
    It makes me anxious to know I won’t be going the way I thought I would be going.
    My plans are in disarray.
    Another lay-off looms, goals once again set aside to focus on survival. Survival of what? The plan?
    Maybe the plan is the problem.
    My road diverges ahead.
    Some things appear as options and others as inevitable.
    I struggle in the net of expectations, sides heaving, eyes searching for an exit. I see the detour and my mind resists.
    I have a plan! I had a plan. My heart aches.
    “gentlemen, we have lost the moon.”
    Breathing into my belly, I remember other detours;
    detours that turned out to be blessings.
    “I have a plan for you” says my God.
    Oh yes, I remember.
    My eyes rest on the detour entrance and I smile.

  3. You were my lovely detour
    But my car hit your wall of death
    And I fell into your absence
    My void, the abyss at the center

    I have been consumed by this place
    I have run from this place
    I have been destroyed by this place
    Now I must walk into this place and be transformed

  4. The Detour

    I found
    work, security, success
    and stocks – gifts for growing up.

    But along the way
    I found
    I’d lost

    a looseness, the seeing eyes,
    lust for prizes on the bottoms of ducks.
    Lost art on paper plates, colors splashed
    vibrant then blackened
    then scratched into patterns. Lost buoyant
    laughs, mismatched
    socks, dirty hands, sand between toes.
    Lost sunshine on dust
    drifting through the haymow.
    Dew on the tent, stars in the sky,
    lost.

  5. Steady

    Stones line the path
    hedging in
    leading out
    gravel roads
    unsteady steps
    take it slow
    steady the path.
    Listen…
    Wisdom whispers above.

  6. i choose the rocky path

    downhill stumble

    fall on my knees

    arms out prostrate

    face in damp earth

    breathe rich leaf mold notice

    a tiny green seedling by my right hand

    1. Sometimes a trip, a stumble, a bit of clumsiness is just the thing we need to bring to our attention a tiny bit of green beginning; something new and bright we might otherwise have stepped upon.

  7. IN

    When I went there

    there I went ever

    over and everly overly

    watching all the while…

    while

    whiles piled, filed, reviled.

    Mile below mile above

    lands uncertain. Certified

    landing curtained

    in hands

    incense

    incognito.

  8. The Way

    It may feel like a detour
    but it really is the way.
    The twists and turns of life
    cannot be straightened.

    The center cannot be seen.
    Just like a labyrinth,
    what may seem close
    is really far away

    And the end
    is always unexpected.
    So, just trust,
    the way is yours.

  9. The air soft the bark under foot dry
    the path edged with stones lining the way

    What a pleasure striding along into the bush
    Backpack day light as I join creation

    Walking into God’s green cathedral
    All is quiet at this early hour

    bird song trilling out, soft rustle in the undergrowth

    As I stop and breath in with the earth’s lungs
    the Kauri reaches for the sky the tui plucks at the flax flower

    The light and shadow of the bush calls me to meditate in this day this hour
    It whispers, take time, enjoy this quiet ,this day in which I feel part of the intricate web of creation.

    The Detour stands for Deanna’s time out with Good Guide of my life.