I had a request for this card this morning, which made me think that, yes, this is a good poem for these times.
from the book of poems, WHAT HOLDS US
when asked, where do your poems come from…
REVERIE & REVELATION
Every poem arises
from a deep unraveling love
for the un-say-able which is living
which is This.
Words filter in through reverie,
an open-ended waiting,
to wander in suspension
the day’s unbroken trail.
It’s fishing with the angels;
the sift for revelation;
an offering, prayer, or opening;
to step beyond the whirl.
Not idleness but courting;
not silence but deep listening;
both lovemaking and stillness;
to take the Presence in.
Delirium; vision; fancy;
blooming; belonging; trust;
to linger in the twilight;
the willingness not to know.
~Ingrid Goff-Maidoff, from the book, What Holds Us
Tell me, friend, where do your poems come from?
I wrote this poem a few days after the election, after visiting with friends over a modest dinner of scrambled eggs… I hope it gives you comfort in these turbulent times.
Together We Are More
There are rooms
and corners, still,
where neighbors gather
in the restless pull of oneness,
the resilience of love.
We come together humbled,
astonished, curious, alive,
& looking for the good.
Some are weary,
and still, there is kindness,
a quiet belonging,
listening, pardon, warmth…
work that must be done.
Let us each bring what we need.
I met two beautiful souls at the artisan’s fair this weekend who told me that they would like to write poems but they have no time- they are simply too busy and working too hard. I confessed to sometimes using this excuse myself.
Here is an invitation:
Basho, the 17th century Japanese poet, said, “Real poetry is to live a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.”
If we are not writing poems, are we living, at least, a beautiful life? Or is the mind too occupied with struggle and striving? What are we struggling and striving toward? Is it a day when we might finally relax, breathe, look around at what is beautiful, and write a few words of gratitude and praise? Let’s do that now.
In the morning, tell yourself, “I am living a life which is now abundant with moments in which I may relax, breathe, see the beautiful, give thanks and praise- every day. It is so. This is my life.”
At first, small moments will reveal themselves – like little flashes of light, or a bird’s song rising suddenly nearby. Then you will begin to sense that these moments may widen into longer pockets of time. Eventually there will be days of beauty, gratitude, praise…maybe even a poem or two will come. Nothing much has changed, except you have tuned your attention. You are noticing a little more, receiving life into your life.
Joseph Campbell taught, “Eternity is a dimension of the here and now.” You begin to notice that Eternity has been revealing itself all along. Now you are remembering that you are in it- breathing it, admiring, enjoying. Life itself is the poem.
(I have always sensed, and I believe Jonah does as well, that we are two souls who are enjoying the experience of having this life together… this poem speaks to that intuition…)
Lovers in the Kitchen
We are living in the radiance, you and I.
We maneuver around each other’s bodies,
making soup in our little kitchen,
passing the cooking ware, the spices.
Our living is a dance.
Light spills off our elbows, our fingertips.
It hovers around our temples.
We know the spaciousness we’ve come from,
to which we will return.
on the surface of the ocean,
we rise up, joyful, subside.
We never speak of this
yet we know well what we are.
~Ingrid Goff-Maidoff, Winter 2016
Sheep were grazing in the field, and looked up to see what I might offer.
Included with the journal is a bookmark with the following poem:
If I were an angel,
I’d softly speak to
your heart’s ear,
and hold you with
my warm and
Though this life is
rare and precious,
do not live in fear~
count instead the
every season brings.
A kingdom much like
heaven is spread across
the earth, and with
awakes the human race.
And Love does flow
right to you, within, among,
and through you,
lighting all you do and are
with its eternal Grace.
The illustration on the journal is a painting called Tatiana’s Awakening, by Charles Sims,1896. There are approx. 60 golden parchment pages inside, and she is nestled in a gift box.
I wish I could bring you with me on walks around the island. I snap photographs and jot notes in my notebook, receiving words and poems.
Here is this morning’s poem……..
There are undreamed dreams inside you.
Might you name a few?
There are some hopes that were dashed and are jagged –
could you breathe them into repair?
And what of praise and unspoken gratitudes-
begin to speak them in every moment.
Speak them and feel your life turning
from worry into song.