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Reflections

Category: Poetry

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Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by. Now overlap the sundials with your shadows, and on the meadows let the wind go free. Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine; grant them a few more warm transparent days, urge them on to fulfillment then, and press the final sweetness into the heavy wine. Whoever has no house now, will never have one. Whoever is alone will stay alone, will sit, read, write long letters through the evening, and wander along the boulevards, up and down, restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing. -Rainer Maria Rilke

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The Dreams of Your Body

About five years ago I had the privilege of witnessing a pod of humpback whales in Alaska.  They were bubble feeding which is this marvelous choreographed effort, where the whales swim in a circle to create bubbles and disorient a school of fish.  Then the whales dive down deep and then come straight back up out of the water with mouths wide open catching a mouthful of fish.  Watching them dive and rise I felt their longing and was lost in their beauty. Last week I read a post at Velveteen Rabbi about embodied trust which has lingered in my imagination. 

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Poetry arrived in search of me

Poetry And it was at that age… Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no, they were not voices, they were not words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night, abruptly from the others, among violent fires or returning alone, there I was without a face and it touched me. I did not know what to say, my mouth had no way with names my eyes were blind, and something started in my

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Equinox Blessings

Tess’ Sunday Collection is all about autumn, so head on over to read a number of wonderful links! Bette has blessed me this day with the kindest and most gracious words.  Bette has been reading my blog since almost the beginning and has become a wonderful online friend who has inspired me in many ways, not the least of which was getting me to begin carving my own rubber stamp images! I posted some reflections on autumn last week and several of you added your own suggestions and resources.  Last year’s autumnal equinox I posted one of my favorite fall

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Sowing Our Inward Seeds of Fire

Sunflower What sower walked over the earth, which hands sowed our inward seeds of fire? they went out from his fists like rainbow curves to frozen earth, young loam, hot sand, they will sleep there greedily, and drink up our lives and explode it into pieces for the sake of a sunflower that you haven’t seen or a thistle head or a chrysanthemum. Let the young rain of tears come. Let the calm hands of grief come. It’s not all as evil as you think. -Rolf Jacobsen, translated by Robert Bly, from Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart  

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the way is made by walking

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the way is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road– Only wakes upon the sea. Caminante, son tus huellas el camino, y nada más; caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar. Al andar se hace camino, y al volver la vista atrás se ve la senda que nunca se ha de volver a pisar. Caminante, no hay camino, sino estelas en la mar. -Antonio

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Forget Everything

I found this poem the other day at Northwoods Contemplative and it speaks to me in the most amazing and direct way.   I am in a period of intense wrestling with my relationship to institutional religion, while my faith in God and experience of sacred presence has never been stronger.  Forget Everything If someone says, “To be enlightened you must fast and pray all night,” Have dinner and go to bed. If you see a sign, “This way to salvation,” run the other way. If someone says, “This book is the truth, you can buy it from me,” Take your money and buy grapes and

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