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Invitation to Poetry: Holy Waiting

Augustine Baron - Photo Party - Holy Waiting

Welcome to Poetry Party #73!

button-poetryI select an image (*photo above by Augustine Baron) 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 Visio Divina practice with a beautiful piece of art from Mary Southard and followed up with our Photo Party on the theme of “Holy Waiting.” (You are most welcome to still participate).  We continue this theme in our Poetry Party this month.

An essential aspect of listening for what is being birthed through us is waiting, watching, listening, being. The photo above, shared by fellow monk in the world Augustine Baron at this month’s Photo Party, shimmers with the sacredness of ordinary moments of waiting. Waiting on a bench for the bus to come, waiting at the dentist’s office, waiting in line at the grocery store, waiting for the results of a medical test, waiting to hear about a new job. Write a poem which celebrates these ordinary kinds of holy waiting.

You can post your poem either in the comment section below*or you can join our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group (with more than 1000 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.

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21 Responses

  1. Holy Waiting

    For that confounded
    Fan to appear
    At the top
    Of my computer

    Waiting to connect
    With the world
    To lurk
    To surf
    To learn
    To see

    Read between
    The lines
    The world awaits

  2. Contained




    Attentive to
    that space
    where Christ
    will be born





    New Life



    Source of all Good
    source of my


    Anneclaire Le Royer, December 9, 2013

  3. Constricting bands
    Of suffering’s waiting
    Decades of exile
    Tibettan relics exude
    A smile of forgiving kindness
    Is the greeting at the door
    Dalai Lama, monks, & nuns
    Beat the Golden Drum
    Shine the Golden Light

    “One night, without distraction,
    I dreamed a vivid dream
    I saw a large and beautiful drum,
    Filling the world with golden light,
    And glowing like the sun
    Beaming brightly to all places
    It was seen from 10 directions.

    Everywhere buddhas were seated
    On thrones of precious lapis
    At the foot of jeweled trees
    Facing assemblies of hundreds of thousands.

    I saw a form like that of a brahmin
    Fiercelybeat upon the drum
    When he struck it,
    These verses issued forth.

    By the sound of this majestic drum of golden light
    May the suffering of lower migrations
    Yama & poverty of the three realms
    Of the triple thousand worlds cease to be.

    By the sound of this majestic drum
    May all beings be endowed with the melody of Brahma,
    May they touch the sublime enlightenment of buddha
    May they turn the virtuous wheel of the Dharma.
    Sutra of Golden Light

    And I behold a Golden Drummer, too,
    Mandela’s dance and drumbeat live on.

  4. Anticipation

    Still blowing, the March winds
    in April gusting brown leaves
    up from a crusted earth.
    We wait
    like communicants
    hungry for bread
    standing in line
    silent in the cool
    hollow of asylum.
    We wait
    wanting desperately
    to witness an unclouded sun
    spraying crimson and gold nectar
    along flowered fields.
    We wait
    aching to hear
    the peppered proclamation
    of tiny nested flyers, who also
    in anticipation
    for the resurrected Christ.

  5. Waiting

    See the shimmering
    winter light
    As it wraps
    The trees
    With a blanket
    Of the divine.
    Feel life in the cold air
    On your face,
    It is the hand of
    A lover.

    There is no waiting
    Just being.
    If we
    Pay attention
    The wait disappears
    Into a silent gloriousness.

    Ah, there you go again,
    Divided, distracted, bored.
    Look and
    The knowing of
    The unknown.

    It is there for those
    Who wait without

  6. Be here, now?
    Physically present, waiting
    Mind stuck in a far off situation.
    Here waiting, un-(w)holy.

  7. I did not see a park bench there…
    no, my heart saw half
    of a rib cage instead.

    A rib cage.
    Protects the beating heart
    and the bellows we call lungs.

    Connects to the spine
    ever so delicately.
    Framework for life to grow.

    Guards the joys and sorrows
    the ecstasies and dreams,
    but leaves spaces between bars…

    For wonder, for anticipation,
    for fear, and for light
    in the deepest of warm darknesses.

    New life protected,
    sentry on duty,
    standing watch.