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Invitation to Poetry: The Call to Our True Selves

Brent Bill Poetry Party

Welcome to Poetry Party #72!

button-poetryI select an image (*photo above by Quaker minister Brent Bill) 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 from Thomas Merton and followed up with our Photo Party on the theme of “The Call to Our True Selves.” (You are most welcome to still participate).  We continue this theme in our Poetry Party this month.

Thomas Merton’s words invite us to consider the sainthood of creation, living into the fullness of their purpose and call. We can refuse this call for ourselves, and often do, but we can also choose to respond to the witness of nature to deepen into who we are.  Write a poem which explores this journey.

You can post your poem either in the comment section below*or you can join our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group (with almost 900 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 Brent Bill

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24 Responses

  1. tall, slender, grandeur,
    reaching skyward to limitless heights
    contrasts with palms so low to the ground
    being sheared of fans to stimulate growth
    like those we carry on palm sunday
    journeying to trueness with Christ
    the desert rejoices in green oasis
    against stark sandy dunes around
    i am naked of summer’s green mountain dress
    searching the sands of time
    to unreachable spaces of the heart
    God whispers memories on wind songs
    and heaven’s heights bend down
    shimmering a message with falling leaves
    brightly colored from my twin’s street
    like the folds of a flag topped with La Habra
    heights and depths of agony and ecstasy
    numinous passing rippling streams of grief
    let me gaze into infinite skies of blue
    horizons of sunrise and sunset
    following the mystery of waves on endless shore
    photo parties of trees in the abbey circle
    comfort in the journey to the point Beyond
    the star of night twinkling a know not change
    from cocoon to butterfly self
    and the flutter of eternity in Light

  2. Autumn Leaves

    Brilliant, Beauty
    Glowing, Falling, Dying
    Autumn’s call to reflect

  3. All from a seed, the tree.
    In her simplicity she
    Her roots going deeper. Deeper.
    Budding, leafing, blooming.
    Yielding in season.
    Beginning again.

    All from a seed, the tree.
    In her majesty she
    Her branches reaching higher. Higher.
    Waving breeze, sheltering shade.

    All from a seed, the aging tree.
    In her wisdom she
    Her gnarled bark
    Faithful to her creation.

    All from a seed, the tree
    Welcomes my wondering.
    Invites me
    To be where I am,
    Grow in grace,
    Be faithful to my creation.

    All from a seed, the tree.
    All from a seed, me.

  4. Rare November blue,
    a porcelain bowl with tracery of trees,
    fragile as a soul.
    This day will break,
    shatter, the wind will sweep the shards.
    The trees will keep
    like bones.
    Like we who are willing.

  5. Trees reach upwards,
    holding out hopeful leaves,
    releasing all insecurities.

    Theirs is the essence of trust,
    being rooted in one place
    they know they have all they need,
    they do not even need to know that.

    How alive is a tree?
    Is turning, arching wood alive?
    Is a tree asking questions?

    There are answers
    in those branches,
    holding out their hands.

  6. This was written yesterday (hope that is OK). I had walked 2.5 miles to photograph a yoga class for my friend, the owner, for her website. Of course it was another 2.5 miles back home and while I walked through the neighborhoods, shuffling through leaves on the sidewalk like a child would, I re-focused, allowing the walk to deepen my inner spirit while I meditated on the five senses during my walk. These are the words I penned (yes — penned and then keyed). The photo was also gifted to me along the walk. I call this …

    The Five Sense Walk

    Zigzagging through streets
    Embracing all that surrounds
    On an autumn day.

    Legs step in rhythm
    The warm wind brushing my cheek
    Hair tickling my eyes.

    Breathing crispy air
    Inhalation of oak leaves
    And sweetness of pine.

    Sounds all around me
    Rustling of leaves at my feet
    Floating and whirling.

    Envisioning all
    Charming homes align the streets
    Branches reach above.

    The walk climaxing
    An appetite builds inside
    A short distance more.

    Tea kettle whistling
    Delighting my senses with
    Lemon ginger tea.

    1. Know

      One word given to me

      know how the root touches water
      know how the leaf dances in the wind
      know how the canopy entwines the sky

      know the feel of smooth bark
      white as bleached bone
      worn smooth by wind and water

      know root and water
      wind and leaf
      crown and sky

      know and be

      Pamela Olson, 11/18/2013

  7. Earth pierces sky
    Penetrated by beauty
    Defined by upright strength
    Waving in the breeze
    Saluting the Universe
    Bark, branches & shimmering leaves
    In Prayer

    Mary Ann Sinclair
    Poetry Party #72