Poetry, a salve for the soul…

The Journey
Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
——————————————————

Won’t You Celebrate With Me?
Lucille Clifton 1993

won’t you celebrate me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.

born in Babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did I see to be except myself?

i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,

my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.

——————————————————

An excerpt from ”To Bless the Space Between Us: A book of Blessings”
John O’Donohue

This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.

Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.

If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning…

  ——————————————————        

A rewrite of Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese for these unprecedented times
Adrie Kusserow March 2020

You do not have to become totally Zen.
You do not have to use this isolation to make your marriage better,
your body slimmer, your children more creative.
You do not have to “maximize its benefits”
by using this time to work even more,
write the bestselling Corona Diaries,
Or preach the gospel of ZOOM.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body unlearn
everything capitalism has taught you.
That you are nothing if not productive,
That consumption equals happiness,
That the most important unity is the single self.
That you are at your best when you resemble an efficient machine.

Tell me about your fictions, the ones you’ve been sold,
The ones you sheepishly sell others,
and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world as we know it is crumbling.
Meanwhile the virus is moving over the hills,
suburbs, cities, farms and trailer parks.
Meanwhile The News barks at you, harsh and addicting,
Until the push of the remote leaves a dead quiet behind
a loneliness that hums as the heart anchors.
Meanwhile a new paradigm is composing itself in our minds,
Could birth at any moment if we clear some space
From the same tired hegemonies.
Remember, you are allowed to be still as the white birch,
Stunned by what you see,
Uselessly shedding your coils of paper skins
Because it gives you something to do.
Meanwhile, on top of everything else you are facing,
Do not let capitalism coopt this moment,
laying its whistles and train tracks across your weary heart.
Even if your life looks other like the Sabbath,
You “stress boa” constricting your chest.
Know that your antsy kids, your terror, your shifting moods,
Your need for a drink has every right to be here,
Whoever you are, no matter how broken
the world still has a place for you, calls to you over and over
announcing your place as legit, as forgiven,
even if you fail and fail and fail again.
Remind yourself over and over,
all the swells and storms that run through your long tired body,
all have their place here, now in this world.
It is your birthright to be held
deeply, warmly in the family of things,
no one cell left in the cold.

——————————————————

Today
Mary Oliver

Today, I’m lying low and I’m not saying a word…
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition, sleep.
The world goes on as it must,

The bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.

And so forth
But I’m taking the day off.

Quiet as a feather.

I hardly move though really, I’m traveling a terrific distance.

Stillness….

…one of the doors into the temple.

——————————————————

Stay tuned for more resources to aid you on your journey!