Mountains On The Inside

If words could be volcanos, this is close...metaphorically speaking.

I confess, I prefer softer language, steely eyed spider webs

and water smoothing rock simply by flowing. 

That being said, it's exhilarating to consider this 

amount of power inside of our skin and bones...

the magnificence of mountains... 

the vastness of oceans...

the crowd of people awaiting our directions...

"Open your mouth the way the volcano opens its mouth.

There's an ocean inside you, the ocean that covered the earth once.

Call out the mountains inside you and let everything begin."

May all that is not serving goodness be turned to cinders.

Let the volcanos roar.

 

Homeless Is The Wrong Word

"Don't define people by what they don't have

as if the home that isn't there was realer

 than the person who isn't in it."

Isn't this a splendid way of thinking?

It humbles me.

"People don't talk to places: not imaginary places,

not controversial places,...People talk to other people

who have mouths and who can talk back."

I'm not proud of my immediate response

upon encountering someone we could consider 

"homeless" (unhoused?).

Mother Teresa I am decidedly NOT.

I do not see an individual person, I see someone I 

feel sorry for which fills me with guilt and shame; 

immediately followed by the strong urge 

to depart, and avoid the entire situation. 

I fear engaging with them as I assume 

it leads to expectations 

I am unwilling and unable to fulfill.  

  

Why I Write Poetry by Julia Vinograd

"Because I can't trust God to look after the world and my friends."

I unearthed this poet due to Poetic Outlaws.

 I am chagrined I didn't know about her.

She blew bubbles at the police 

while participating in a demonstration

in 1969.  Some police even joined in!

"It may be God's will but its my won't!"

A tiny piece of me rears up shocked at this "blasphemy";

while a giant piece of me applauds the honesty.

It is a brave statement (for someone with my upbringing) 

and the epitome of what it means to be human.

She had me at "it's my won't".

"I can't change anything but I am a poet

and if I can't trust God, I must speak

for the world and my friends."

And that she does with fervor and truth.

 

Mindful

"Every day I see or hear something that more or less

kills me with delight."

I went back to read it again to make sure "kill" wasn't a typo.

The juxtaposition of kill with delight sits a bit off center

but I take her point and salute her word skill.

"It is what I was born for--to look, to listen, to lose myself

within this soft world--to instruct myself over and over

in joy and acclamation."

I'd like to say we're all born for this very same thing...

"instructing ourselves over and over in joy and acclamation."

What if this began in kindergarten?  What if there were

age appropriate textbooks written for such a course of practice?

Would this world be a different place to live in? I'd like to believe so.

. . ."the ordinary, the common, the very drab, the daily presentations."

This is my favorite line...we get so caught up in the rare, the unusual,

 the  scary, the outrageous, the out of the ordinary--

rushing past the "daily presentation"... 

taking them for granted, forgetting 

the wonder of their dependability.

"how can you not help but grow wise with such teachings as these?"

This reminds me of the first time I saw an 

Orange Fringed Orchid (Platanthera ciliaris)

blooming in the grass at the side of the road. 

 I was enchanted!

Someone remarked, "it's common."

I was still enchanted nonetheless and I am to this day

when I catch a glimpse of one...even more so now that

I've befriended this poem.  

 

Sunday

"Not a day to argue about fleeting things

that are outside our peripheral vision."

I would not limit this sentiment to Sunday.

I recommend at least two or three days a week.

Happy Friday.

 

Every Living Thing

It pains me 

to share this quote.  

It caught me off guard and gave me a jolt.

Then I realized the seriousness of our situation.

I believe in the hand of grace...

I hold it close always...trusting it's power.

May it bring an end to hostilities wherever they reside.

May the seeds of discord that have taken root 

become deracinated...uprooted to be replaced

with seeds of goodness and harmony.

 

Poem To The Future

There is so much I love about this poem.

We all might benefit from a chat with the future, don't you think?

"I keep hoping we’ll get to celebrate you."

I'd offer the future a rich cup of coffee with lots of cream.

Granola with yogurt with plenty of cinnamon.

Along with something sweet and delicious from Bent Willow.

Darn, Bent Willow is gone with Past.

Wait.  What about a conversation with Now?

Now. Welcome! I have some questions.

First of all, please don't mind the mess.

I do apologize for all the trash in our oceans

and the wilderness that's gone missing along

with more creatures than I can name or count.

Can you make your way through the bodies?

Navigate the detention centers?

You're young and healthy aren't you?

Because man oh man, if you are sick

there might be a problem getting proper help.

Please sit down and tell me this can all be fixed?

That crews of helpers who are, this minute,

doing marvelous things to bring some order to the chaos?

It would be great if you'd make them a bit more visible.

Explain to me how you are sorting things out to

bring us back to balance and graciousness?

That the countless unsung and scarcely witnessed

humans and more than humans working

like mad to renew our trust and faith in each other

are not working in vain.

That the wood wide web is not destroyed

and is still able to send out waves of medicine to

help heal the ravaged places.

We need a detailed map.

Please?