This poem was written at a retreat after being given the image that I have attached. I was able to imagine what life will be like for me in another 25 years time.

It’s a long knowing look
Delight in a beautiful heart,
Being close to another,
Celebrating difference together,
The suprise of a shared life,
That is still unfolding,
The trust of two committed hearts,
A lifetime of understanding,
That sacrifices anything today,
For the opportunity of tomorrow,
The smile of appreciation,
At the mystery in the other.

“Poetry can break open locked chambers of possibility, restore numbed zones to feeling, recharge desire,” Adrienne Rich wrote in contemplating the cultural power of poetry.

Most poems start with retreat…
It’s when I remove myself from the distractions
that chase my thoughts most days.
When I make time to turn down the noise
and learn to listen instead of thinking. Then
it’s waiting for silence to arrive. Sometimes
it takes a while for ringing in my ears to stop. I think
of the thousand things to do
that belong to my weekly list of tasks. A poem calls
me to lower my voice and hear the voice
of another world that is quieter, gentler and
softer. A poem begins with retreat but
concludes with the opening of my soul
to the words that are closest to my heart.

 

Poems seek out the quiet places…
These are the lonely places that life takes me to.
The dark nights that seek to suck the words
that are waiting to to express my happinesses and heartaches. If
I stop for long enough then the words begin again. They mostly
don’t rhyme, or have a happy ever after. But,
they help discover what lies underneath,
and instead of saying the obvious that everyone can see
they leave space for my imagination to explore
in the company of others.

 

Poetry helps me ask questions….
There are so many whys about each day.
Poems seek out my inner source where
my soul meets reality and ….
of where disappointments start and end. Poems
hold the possibility that a fresh start
is always around the corner. Then
as I hold the question I am able to understand
instead of settling for the easy answers.

Nothing

I stop to take a breath,
A deep inhaling of life,
Grabbing as much air as I can
My experience of the incessant
Cycle of time
is that it ends too soon.

Noisy waves breaking
Interrupting my desire for quiet
Waiting with a world of drawn breaths
Looking for my shaft of light
Pointing to the next step.

Nothing is mine to own,
Life held for a moment
Then abandoned in trust
Hoping that the next breath
Will be sustained for eternity

Hope begins with a broken promise,
The ground that I thought I knew,
No longer holds the same opportunity,
Everything moves,
Every promise is shifting sands….

Sadness begins with my deepest loving,
The heart that belongs with mine,
Broken open by jagged words,
Everything breaks,
Every sadness is bathed in tears….

Trust begins with deep disappointment,
Crushed by the empty words,
The more that’s said less is believed,
Everything fails,
Every crushed spirit is lost in the noise….

Hope, sadness and trust,
The broken promises,
Where do I belong?
Finding, seeking, longing,
What is lost is heard…
When failure is the kindest word,
Shifting sands become,
The ground that I stand on,
To promise,
To believe,
To heal,
To love,
So everything begins.

When Love created an eternal soul,
A smile announced his arrival,
Imagination’s beautiful idea fulfilled,
In the surprising gasp for breath,
Introducing life’s first cry.

In the landscape of a million conversations,
One voice creates a new piece of ground,
Creation’s busy activity paused.

Stopping to listen.

A moment dedicated to this life,
Finding a word that belonged to this person,
The word that sought out his special name,
That joined imagination with possibility,
Concluding with life’s final breath,
The smile completed by Love’s embrace.

I just spent a few days with a group of guys retreating together. They were a great group. I wrote this poem as I sought to discover the gift we had over the day or so that we were together.
Retreat

The desert the place where my soul is led,
Seeking the quiet whisper of truth,
In the midst of a thousand temptations,
A multitude of voices crying, “me first”,
With their selfish clamour for my attention,
Retreat demands a space for a quieter voice.

The path to desolations that cry out their pain,
The desert my place to visit their questions,
Surprised by their truthful lament and my sadness,
Reminders of the promised land for his beloved,
And, the beautiful conversation spoken in psalms,
Retreat brings me home to the place most loved.

The truth of the shepherd walks beside me now,
I am found in the story starting in Eternity’s heart,
Trust guides each step into the parched wilderness,
Uncertainty’s unknown path is where it begins,
My soul’s desire is given it’s beautiful surprise,
Retreat is communion with the Holy in me.

The weather where I live has for the last couple of days been quite gloomy. There was a biting wind and then a foggy drizzle that lasted all day. I also realised that there had been an increasing sense of unease in myself that had grown over the past week or so. The weather brought to light the inner sadness that was becoming the predominate voice I was listening to.

This was not a welcome intrusion into my life. I prefer a conversation that is about my successes. But, I noticed that for no particular reason I was having a conversation with myself about a possible failure that may occur. The words that I was saying to myself were anticipating the worst outcome that is more than likely not going to happen.

Once I would have tried to replace this conversation with positive words. But, this time I decided to approach it differently. I decided to find the gold in my present state and in the words that I was saying to myself. I realised a certain amount of sadness is necessary for the soul to develop. Avoidance of sadness is akin to having a soul lobotomy that will result in my forgetting the goodness that allows me to begin to understand my sadness’ source.

Kierkegaard reflected that it was through his own sadness that he could respond best to the voice of a higher power. I felt the truth of his words as I explored my sense of sadness that has grown over the past week or so. My rumination until today was depleting my store of hope.

Today I decided to attend to my soul. Instead of trying to deny what I was feeling I was able to engage in my exploration of the divine. My day began with a Psalm and concluded with a poem. Starting my day with a time of reflection allowed me to put my day in order. Concluding with a poem indulged an exploration of my inner conversations and the emotions associated with what I was saying to myself.

At the end of all this self reflection nothing was solved. But, I felt connected to my soul and challenged about my conversations. Visting my sadness makes me a little more careful about the words I choose to speak. It shapes my conversation and allows me to be empathetic to the sadnesses of those that I encounter each day.

The Voice of Sadness

In the cold dawn,
I felt the breath of sadness,
Touching my lips,
Beginning a conversation,
With words repeating,
A funeral dirge,
That robs life’s joy,
The misplaced emphasis,
Of what might be,
Instead of what is now.

The day’s gloomy embrace,
Wraps its cold arms around me,
Its voice a frosty reminder,
Of a chilly encounter,
Between my head and heart,
With what is desired,
And where I belong right now.

It’s the conversation least wanted,
But, it’s hurtful words,
Remind my soul,
Of the words I need the most,
Kinder words joining together,
My head and heart,
Kindness’ warm breath,
Replenishing my spirit,
Drawing me to the conversation,
With words chosen just for me.

The yearning for wisdom,
Discovers the deep ache,
To search for calling,
That belongs to me.

Wisdom lights the path,
Each beautiful question,
Is the step towards,
My gift of inner truth.

Wisdom is emerging,
From the honest conversation,
The one most needed,
As they way behind closes.

Wisdom takes the ordinary,
Transforming it to unique,
A gift for this day,
As the next step is taken.

The wild human heart,
Lusts for freedom,
Beginning from a creative thought,
Seeking a new beginning,
When my eyes opened,
For the first time,
I saw the day,
Stretching its arms,
Calling me to adventure.

True freedom,
Is always found within,
It is a hope,
That can see,
The horizon,
Halted only briefly,
By a passing cloud.

My desire is found,
With freedom’s voice,
Seeking out a calling,
That belongs to me,
Life not distracted,
By a million possibilities,
I am found in the path,
That is trod only by me.

Spoken and unspoken promises,
Stretched into an endless horizon,
A sure promise is the certainty,
Every promise will be broken,
Each one bears my heartache,
Understood more each day.

Every pilgrim’s journey,
Is only found by walking,
With an unknown destination,
That has the frightening prospect,
When the ground below,
Disappears into an eternal abyss.

Each step must be taken,
Into the uncertain promise,
Of what ground lies beneath,
The honest conversation begins,
With that first promise,
A first uncertain step,
Taken with the hope of knowing,
The trust within the promise,
Where the horizon beckons,
With a welcoming embrace,
The place where I always belong.

The open arms of love,
Stretch from eternity to my heart,
Born from loving desire.
Voice, Breath and Spirit,
Speaking in a beautiful whisper,
That lights my heart’s fire,
Warming in the fiercest winter,
Sweet coolness in the barren desert,
Celebrating life given,
Created for loving embrace,
Drawn together in perfect harmony,
Beautifully crafted,
Eternity’s desires completed,
When the beloved comes home.

Alone is the truest question,
Where shadow,
Sees light,
That seeks out,
My sincerest emotion,
And,
Asks,
Is this really me?

Alone is my questions,
From my path,
Belonging to me,
No one else,
That deepest part of me,
And,
Asks,
Where do I belong?

Alone brings uncertainty,
To the surface,
The question,
I don’t want asked,
Giving me difficult answers,
And,
Asks,
Will you take the next step?

Words spoken from my heart,
The conversation,
Beginning with my yearnings,
Continuing,
With every soul touching mine,
Each word bears a wounding,
Inflicted by the blows,
Given in daily interactions,
Of billions of aching souls.

Questions brought by confusion,
Found in self interested desire,
Seeking selfish answers,
Distractions,
From the conversation needed,
The broken hearted response,
Sheltered by Grace,
Spoken by love’s source,
Living my own conversation,

The conversation,
That belongs to me,
Is the one that begins today,
Starting,
With the conversation I choose,
Words that belong in the past,
No longer a part,
Of what lies ahead,
New words begin shaping.

The conversation that I choose.

The measure of a man is not in his grandest thoughts,
The self deluded picture of a courageous act,
Reality brings all actions together,
Truth explores love’s result
Courage sifted by love,
Nothing left,
Coward.

Give me the coward who can sob about his weakness,
Who knows there are other things to cry about,
He can gaze into the weariness of sadness,
Eyes that know the glare of judgement,
The delusions of control,
Knowing these lies,
Hero.

Voice, flesh and breath meeting,
Lovingkindness sitting at humanity’s table,
Their gaze honouring eternity’s loyalty,
Sharing together the cup that is humanity’s gift.

Seated with them but looking to home,
The cup is handed to me,
My friends have filled it completely,
Showing the fullness of their welcome,
My first quenched forever,
Lovingkindness from the life stream of trust.

My heart longs for this table,
Where love’s eternal gaze is fixed on me,
Understanding hope is made complete,
When living in perfect fellowship,
My flesh becoming all that is desired,
When my three close friends first met,
Opening their hearts to me,
So now I could share this table with them.

Brokenness invited to join perfection,
Humbly gazes at each beautiful face,
Thankfulness is my deepest prayer,
Each grasping word accepted with Grace,
Belonging comes as a gift to me,
At that table with my place set forever.

---

 

Artist	Andrei Rublev
Year	1411 or 1425-27
Type	Tempera
Dimensions	142 cm × 114 cm (56 in × 45 in)
Location	Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow

I wrote this poem after a retreat day yesterday. It was a time to reflect on the “gifts” that I have picked up along my way and to take some to reflect on the unique walk that I have been gifted with.
Home is a big word for me at the moment. I know that I will only have this one chance at life. I don’t want to to do it with an eternal frustration. I am thankful for “waking” days like the one I received yesterday.

This poem emerged from a picture from a Russian artist, “Nicholas Roerich”, and David Whyte’s poem, “What to remember when waking”.

Waking

I heard in my waking moments a new sound,
It was a voice that gently called my name,
My forgetting became my recognising,
Of the source from which my life came.

Listening each day to the voice calling me to belong,
Gave me the courage to take my first fearful steps,
To the future promised for me,
I walked along the created path,
Sometimes in silent complete aloneness,
And, sometimes in the centre of laughter shared.

Each step forward taking me back to my birth,
Every day a little closer to home,
The landscape emerging clearer each day,
As I recognise the one to whom I belong.

Home returns to my heart with greater clarity,
The walk brings discovery that home is not a place,
It’s learned in the trust of being known,
That ache felt in every human heart.

The walk is not just my journey,
I share it with some travelling friends,
And the rest of humanity,
Aloneness often accompanied by:
Fear, disappointment, despair and betrayal,
And in the laughter:
Welcoming, love, hope and trust.

All share a knowing glance with me,
The look that belongs to the one who is known,
Friends who share a common loving gaze,
Each companion a treasured part of who I am.

The walk brings gifts collected along the way,
But, the gift that is remembered least,
Is the gift of each uncertain step,
That as each one follows the other,
The steps become a path,
Given to be trod only once and only by me,
The path weaved through my life,
Is mine and belongs to only me.

My child, listen, hear my voice,
Belonging is born in the human spirit,
This was your gift from the start,
Your journey will not be alone,
There will be some friends,
That you will meet along your path,
They will be difficult be necessary companions,
They are there so you know you belong.

The friends I choose for you,
Some of their names will be familiar,
You will know them intimately,
“Betrayal” his heartache is the lost trust,
“Disappointment”, is the one that shatters dreams,
“Despair”, is that friend who has lost hope,
“Heart-broken”, by life’s inflictions,
“Crisis”, is the confrontation with “Vulnerable”
Each of these will be met along the way.

Each of these friends has a shadow,
Remember, shadow is caused by light,
It is the soul’s gift to another,
Shadow does not exist without life,
Every one of my friends is a witness,
To each shared step,
Each of my friends seeing my true self,
They know my deepest parts,
Knowing shared with our Creator,
Our source to whom we all belong.

A clamour of voices,
Crying for hope,
Connecting souls,
Searching to belong.

A child’s voice is heard,
Seeking love,
Found in the midst,
Of a hope to belong.

Pain born from loving,
Seeks the child,
Alone with fear,
Calling him to belong.

Belonging is embraced,
By our loving source,
Community’s story,
Is in each who belong.

Called from outside,
To my deepest parts,
Wholeness is mine,
Knowing I belong.

My world’s cry of, “not good enough”,
Gave birth to disappointment,
It led me to life’s darkest shadow,
Powerless to lead myself into light,
Disappointment gave life to transformation,
The place that where hope can shed it’s light.

Disappointment’s path took me to loneliness,
Alone, silence, spoke to my soul,
While the world’s voice echoed in my head,
Silence spoke with a clear whisper,
Reflecting my deepest desire,
Connecting my heart to destiny.

In the silence I met with Grace,
He looked me in the eye,
Complete honesty in his gaze,
Then he spoke very quietly,
The words longed for by all,
“My child you belong to me.”

In the silence of despair,
And the heartbreak of disappointment,
I heard the voice of forgiveness,
It called me to know I belong,
Aloneness and silence brought recovery,
From my deepest wounds,
Knowing My heart’s healing source,
Is because of Grace’s gaze fixed on me.

Despair was the empty echo,
That shattered each daily thought,
My life a desperate search for understanding,
Lived in fear of never being heard.

My soul strung out tautly,
Daily wound tight, stretched to breaking,
As I discovered myself with nothing left,
I visited the place of “No Hope”.

There my friends found me,
They listened to my circular tale,
My words seeking their source,
In the pain and the lonely tears,
There emerged a glimmer of hope.

Discovering disappointment as my companion,
Listening to despair’s words spoken each day,
No longer feared enemies,
Disappointment my trusted mentor,
Despair my compassionate friend,
In them I discovered transformation’s source,
As my voice was heard again.