Category: Poetry


Giving Thanks

One of the things I love about Thanksgiving is that it is one of those holidays that has escaped a lot of the consumer frenzy (except as a preamble to one of the biggest shopping days of the year).  I also love that it is a secular holiday centered on feasting and gratitude. I have so very much to be thankful for, my heart overflows with gratitude for the abundance in my life.  A wonderful husband, relatively good health, great friends, work that I love, time and space to nurture delight, many layers of community and support, all of my wonderful

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Simple Musings and Offerings

There are lots of things percolating in me right now.  I almost feel as though if I dare to speak them too soon I will lose my grasp.  So I am allowing them a little more time.  I am working on a post about dreams to respond to Cathleen‘s comment and Me‘s comment to previous posts of mine which I will be able to finish tomorrow. I have also been thinking a lot about the Liturgy of the Hours lately.  Then I just read Jorge’s post about The Liturgy of the Toddler and just loved it.  I don’t even have children, but if

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Sleep is the Prayer of the Body

Sleep is the prayer of the body shrouding itself in holy surrender. It is an act of supplication, with its secret longing for the things embodied in luminous darkness. What happens in that moment of great release into the total eclipse of night when the body descends into the cradle of dreaming? Does the breath suddenly become slow? Does the heart become still, barely perceptible, in its faithful work? Or do they labor more heavily to make space in the body for the rhythmic eruptions of story and symbol that beg me to awaken to a bigger life? This is

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Dear ones, I am feeling very tired.  I have been pushing to get the draft done of our lectio divina book (which it finally is, now for editing!), I teach all day tomorrow and Saturday the Awakening program I love (but always exhausting), and I am having some conflicts with a good friend which is emotionally draining.  So I am feeling my humanness especially right now and trying to listen deeply and gently to myself in the midst all that is stirring in me.  I am aware of my longings for Sabbath, for time to just play and be with my husband,

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Loving everything that increases me. . .

I’ll take all the time I please this afternoon before leaving my place alongside this river. It pleases me, loving rivers. Loving them all the way back to their source. Loving everything that increases me. -Raymond Carver from a poem titled “Where Water Comes Together With Other Water” in a book by the same name. A student included this poem in her last reflection paper and it was one of those wonderful unbidden gifts of the day. I am in love again (how easily I fall in love with poetry!) I want to love “everything that increases me.”  I want to love the

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I want to free what waits within me. . .

I found this poem by Rilke today and I am in love, utterly and completely in love with his images. This is what I was saying in my earlier post on Living Intuitively, Unfolding Organically but with far fewer and more beautiful words. . . I believe in all that has never yet been spoken. I want to free what waits within me so that what no one has dared to wish for may for once spring clear without my contriving. If this is arrogant, God, forgive me, but this is what I need to say. May what I do flow from

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Unfolding, Bridges, and Openings

I want to live life surprised by the ways my life continues to unfold.  I want to delight in the simple offerings of each day.  I want to live in awe of the beauty of the world. I have been having lots of dreams lately.  One is of a bridge crossing where the road ahead loops upside down like a roller coaster, so you have to drive fast enough and hold on to get across.  I’ve had two others where I am living in a house that is right at the edge of the ocean line, the waves crashing onto

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