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.
44 Responses
Our Child
The heart struggles
flails, tight-fisted
smashes its hands
against this boulder
that has crushed
our dreams for you
blocked our way
Exhausted by rage and sorrow
we turn
tenderly carry you
up the other steeper path
twisting
through deep forest
flowered meadows
Far below
tiny specks
fellow travelers
We hear their cries
We are not alone
for some
We lead the way
Time Stood Still
Just as the two month old finished her three ounces,
She cuddled against me and I was in heaven,
But immediately the two year old insisted I put her down
And take her in my arms instead.
With Laura in my right arm,
I grasped Lily in my left,
Gently pulling her up without losing the first.
Laying her head on my shoulder, she cuddled against me, too.
Then I experienced it for the first time.
There I was, holding my two granddaughters together
For the very first time.
Time Stood still.
I realized I couldn’t move,
But immediately started to enjoy the moment.
I compared their two beautiful little bodies.
At 10 pounds, could Lily have ever been so small?
Now her long legs reach almost to the floor.
Laura’s body ends before Lily’s legs begin.
Both have a head of gorgeous hair.
Both have incredible blue eyes.
And for the first time, Lily compromised
And got close to Laura.
Her drive to be with Nana overcame the
Jealousy a lone princess feels when Nana
Shares love with another.
There we were three in a bear hug.
And time stood still.
…..scrumptiously sweet, as every ‘Nana’ knows!
Yesterday’s detour was unexpected,
for I left the path of focused practice of spirituality
to tend to Najia’s search for work
that will fit in with her role as wife and mother of two very young sons.
So unanticipated:
“fire police” blocking transit on Trindle Road,
a re-routing
taking me from oft-traveled route linking two nearby towns and tiny villages
through unknown Cumberland by-ways and return,
and finally, to my former student’s home
where I am welcomed warmly with three kisses on my cheeks
then seated, with honor, before a low, circular table
set with tray of cups for serving sweet Moroccan tea, a pitcher for pouring
and bowls of spiced nuts and cookies to savor.
While the children played nearby,
entertained by building blocks in primary colors
and French-speaking Disney cartoon characters on the T.V.
Najia and I talk of jobs and interests
and finding a good fit with husband’s and children’s schedules.
Once in a while, we pause our conversation
as reminds her young sons,
in English and Arabic-Moroccan,
on appropriate decorum.
Such a detour brings a high tide within my spirit
and refills the border-dwelling and threshold places of my life
with the pearls and sparkling stones
born of companionship and sharing.
I return,
refilled with the new fruit of the day’s sojourn.
detours and diversions (I long to take)
I knew I was keepin’ on in the same direction
but straight as I tried to tread
the path veered, circled, backtracked and turned
to where I needed to be
I’ve heard in a dream
how the road that led you away
will turn and lead you home
home is what I need
I pray this time I’ll get there
To be a place that
encourages journey oh!
let that be my soul!