Welcome to Poetry Party #82!
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 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 and link back to this post inviting others to join us).
We began this month with a Community Lectio Divina practice with a quote from Thomas Merton and followed up with our Photo Party on the theme of Silence. (You are most welcome to still participate). We continue this theme in our Poetry Party this month. What are you continuing to discover about silence in this darker season of the year? We welcome your poetic reflections.
This month’s photo is by Robin Lake and she explains it as such:
Solitude, stillness and being present to the moment have been my focus for 2014. Just last night, I was sitting in my car after a holiday gathering downtown and once again was struck by how the holy is everywhere. The neon lights of the city became jewels in the mist of my windows, rivulets casting shadow on the altar of my dashboard. Passing cars became the sounds of ocean waves as they processed down the wet streets. I became lost in the wonder of the moment, reflected in the ordinary. My heart is full.
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 2600 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.
50 Responses
“People expect too much from speaking,
too little from silence.”
~ Henri Nouwen
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Amen! Enough said!
dusk over lake ainsworth
in mirrored stillness
russet tea tree
glows bridesmaid pink
maypole ribbons ruched
vermillion aubergine tangerine
in quietness
its expanse like arms outstretched
to receive and enfold
comforts for the impending dark
a duck’s silent wake
breaks the spell
with a hush the evening sighs
slowly curling down for sleep
colleen keating
Gorgeous, Colleen!
this poem is about silence
words get in the way of silence
it needs a blank page
it needs space
in silence there can be longing
there can be anticipation
intimate or hostile
you can hear it
in the pin-drop moment
between bow and string
you can feel it between breaths
the inarticulate uses violence
for expression
is this silence?
when one turns their back
their silence is palpable
and what of silence imposed in fear?
anonymity is powerful and loud
a silent protest is loud
when the powerless stitch their lips together
with needle and fishing line
is this silence
even as tears fall?
a poem about silence
needs to be loud
to be heard
Mutual admiration, then ~ ‘a poem about silence needs to be loud’ …’a silent protest is loud’…. The point is so beautifully made!
I’ve never thought about it that way, Colleen, that silence NEEDS be to heard to understand what it means. Thank you!
Word weary, she collapsed, relinquishing every syllable
that didn’t quickly hide in a pleat or a pocket.
The longer she stayed in one place, the lighter she felt.
Even her backpack nearly floated from the emptying.
All the words she had strung together
in letters, in conversations, in prayer –
especially in prayer – fluttered to the floor in surrender.
There was just the faintest sound of a light drizzle
decorating the window.
She smiled faintly, wondering if God was weary of her words as well.
Maybe God had been missing her. Just her.
As they sat, together now, the wall of chatter
silent.
Leaning into the stillness, she knew.
God was speaking to her, hearing her. Just her.
Silent.
Carolyn love your poem . . means a lot to me. I am from Australia and my poem is more a social justice poem. It is about the asylum seekers here in Australia that are not being treated correctly because of political issues.
Well I have two the second is just a contemplative poem about a tea tree lake which is very good to swim in although it has a rusty colour.!!
Love this…sometimes we talk to much just to fill the silence.
What rich, wonderfully original images!
I love this, Carolyn. In my case, my voice was “silenced” due to the stroke. What really needs to be said? Not much, it turns out. Showing love, that’s the only thing that matters to God.
Carolyn,
I have been back here to read and re-read your poem countless times. I cannot begin to tell you the ways that it weaves itself into my soul. I may have to take my original photo and put these words next to it in my quiet place in my home. If you don’ t mind…
Love Affair with the Mountain
Beneath the rumbling, searing skies,
I ponder: Why am I here… Why do I stay?
And a whisper comes like a song in my heart,
Can you imagine the Glory of the Morn?
As the crimson rays of dawn
Fall upon the entire expanse of mountain range,
As if awakening to greet the splendor of a new day,
The snow capped heights are like Mt Kailish of the Himalayas,
Calling forth one’s spirit to transcendent realms,
I gaze upon her and she gazes back…
With the breath of new life she bids the Spirit
To renew the face of the earth,
To behold the desert landscape in all its primal beauty
Green chapparel against endless dunes of sandy beige,
Pristine blue skies hugging the earth mother with Infinity,
After awakening – the reclining Buddha or Christ image,
Or Cahuilla elders, Catherine and Mariano,
Take on shades of purple hues and darkness again,
As clouds become a blanket of moving, swirling patches,
I am awake with her, my Beloved Mountain,
And singing with praise and gratitude in the name of all humanity,
Blessing with the twirl of gladness…
So that our Garden of the Gods,
Is one born in the Stillpoint…
Where all can see and hear the Glory of His Voice
Your poem “calls forth spirit to transcendent realms”!
That word again…”stillpoint” has been showing up a lot (for me!). And just like your poem, it seems like there’s a message there for me…and everybody. Beautiful, Rosemarie.
Is one born in the Stillpoint…
This word evokes the core of the theme of “SILENCE”
Can there be truly be an instant of silence without a total letting go of the present moment?
At the core of the storm – the core not seen – is this space, not empty by filled with silence and peace!
Thank you!
Is one born in the Stillpoint…
This word evokes the core of the theme of “SILENCE”
Can there truly be an instant of silence without a total letting go of the present moment?
At the core of the storm – the core not seen – is this space, not empty but filled with silence and peace!
Thank you!
Light attracts, nearly magnetic in its pull. December light shines holy while September light does not. I am drawn to the light unreasonbly. Is it to fill what I perceive that I lack? Are these lights of hope?
Think of a time when you walked on the street. It had rained and the moisture stayed in the air. Clear light seemed to glow. Now out of focus, the street (and world) change.
The commercial glare of neon becomes a piece of beautiful art.
I too want to be beautiful. World, take off your glasses and see my glow!
Your poem speaks to me of “presence,” Ina…something I’ve been struggling with recently. This helps. Thank you!
Through the wet window
I see as through tears
To see the world through tears
is to see it new
To see new through tears
is to open a scripture of beauty
To read that beauty through tears
is to embrace the world
To embrace the wet world
is to feel God’s embrace
So very lovely to read this on Christmas Morn…so many lines of deep rich soul life…”scripture of beauty, and “beauty through tears,’ “to embrace the wet world”…just beautiful Janice…thank you for the gift …
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Beautiful, Janice. So bittersweet, but there’s so much hope to it. My favorite line: “is to open a scripture of beauty.” Thank you!
Listen
Sounds of the street.
Parents yelling out dinners.
Horns and hounds.
The hum of humans.
Sounds of the street.
Softens with streams
and drips and drops.
Now listening for the divine.
love these words chris. i could feel them as i read them.
Your picture says it all!
I’ve been visiting family this week. As much as I love them, with the sounds of cousins playing, TV on, music playing, it can be challenging to “now listening for the divine…” Thank you for the reminder, Chris!
SACRED SILENCE IS…
a field of healing herbs under a full moon sky, springing fresh and sweet from dark, fertile soil…
a velvet cloak in sapphire blue, enveloping me in comfort and warmth…
golden light spilling from the windows of my house, welcoming me home and inviting me in…
my lover’s arms, strong and sure, holding me secure & safe & cherished…
a chapel at midnight, infused with the fragrance of blessed candles, sanctified by the adoring devotion of the faithful…
One more, because so many of my holy moments are in the stillness and solitude of night…
Sacred night, deep and mysterious, embracing me in velvet shadows,
while gentle moon softly beams a crescent smile down on me.
I feel you, Terri! It’s like pulling me into your world of stillness, comfort, and calm. Thank you!
Your words are luscious and I can feel the grains of your words, like the ink from a pen, sweeping within me as I listen to your lovely writing…thank you for the beauty of your sacred silence,
Beauty,
Donna
Lovely imagery
This is something I wrote a few weeks ago but it goes well with the theme.
STILLNESS
Stillness
Is beautiful
Time for quietness
Peace, rest
Relaxation
Stillness
Is hard
Much too quiet
Sorrow, loneliness
Discord
Stillness
Is beautiful
Time for reflection
Hope, Joy
Wonder
Stillness
Is hard
Much soul searching
Layers peeling
Questions
Stillness
Is beautiful
Look to God
Be grateful
Love
I just found that it was more than a few weeks ago. I wrote it in late September.
Beautiful, Gayl. “Stillness is hard, much too quiet, sorrow, loneliness, discord.” Stillness IS hard, no doubt about it. If I can get through my worries, distractions, everything that pulls me away, that is when I feel Him, in the stillness.
Thanks for sharing this, Gayl. I especially like the thought “stillness is beautiful, time for …wonder” Lovely!