A Gathering of Poetry | 3.21.24

A Gathering of Poetry | 3.21.24

Welcome to the March Gathering of Poetry… the day when Bonny holds a space for us to share our love of poetry.

I have nurtured the habit of reading some poetry every day. I have been doing this now for a couple of years and the impact that opening a book of poetry, noting the date, and reading a poem or two is dramatic. The space I hold for poetry almost feels sacred… it is intimate… just me and the words of the poet. It is just a few moments, but they are the most impactful moments of the day.

The poem I am sharing today is one I read some time ago… but it is a poem that has stayed with me and every spring I think of it again. Barbara Crooker is the poet… and I think she is brilliant. You can find more about her here and find some of her poetry here. I found this poem in The Path to Kindness: Poems of Connection and Joy. 

Forsythia

by Barbara Crooker

What must it feel like
after months of existing
as bare brown sticks,
all reasonable hope
of blossoming lost,
to suddenly, one warm
April morning, burst
into wild yellow song,
hundreds of tiny prayer
flags rippling in the still−
cold wind, the only flash
of color in the dull yard,
these small scraps of light,
something we might
hold on to.

Forsythia by Barbara Crooker in More in Time: A Tribute to Ted Kooser, University of Nebraska Press, 2021.


Image used courtesy of Borabelle *

A Gathering of Poetry | February 2024

A Gathering of Poetry | February 2024

As a person who finds a great deal of silliness with Valentine’s Day and the whole idea that surrounds it… love poems are not my favorite.

That is until I read José A. Alcántara’s poem in Poetry of Presence II. (I mean a former construction worker, baker, commercial fisherman, math teacher, and studio photographer turned poet… seems brilliant, no?)

And really… who does not have a love affair with silence?

Love Note to Silence

by José A. Alcántara

It’s impossible to stay in bed when you’re around.
I love our morning tea, our walks in the woods,
listening to all your crazy stories.

I’m sorry that I don’t contribute much,
that I mostly just nod and smile,
and sometimes scratch the back of my head.

But listening to you is like the shore listening to the ocean.
I’m swept clean of my detritus, my rotting organic matter,
everything tossed there by the rude and the ugly.

Here, let me grab my pen and notebook, my binoculars. Let me slip
on my coat and shoes. The handheld cranes are passing overhead.
Let’s go to the fields at the edge of town and make some noise.

“Love Note to Silence.” Copyright © José A. Alacántara

A huge thanks to Bonny for hosting all us poetry lovers… Stop by and see what other poems you can gather today!

See you all back here next week Monday!

A Gathering of Poetry | 1.18.24

A Gathering of Poetry | 1.18.24

One of the best things in my week are the moments that I allow a poem to set the tone for my day. This year, I am reading through Phyllis Cole-Dai and Ruby R. Wilson’s Poetry of Presence II as my morning devotion.

And last week, a poem really jumped out to me… bits of it have been percolating up in my thoughts so many times since I first read it. I hope that this poem will be one that moves you as well.

It Could Be

by Julia M. Fehrenbacher

a smile or a poem. Or new day light
that finds you through and open
window. Or, perhaps, remembering
that tomorrow was never promised.

It could be the scent
of baking bread, the first chill
of autumn that has you reaching
for your favorite wool sweater. Or maybe
it’s the noticing of how easily
red maple becomes and lets go.

It could be taking today off
to be still, to un-know,
to notice. To practice loosening
your troubled grip
because grace can never
be gripped or grabbed.

It could be choosing
softness in a world grown hard
because you’re tired of hurting
and being hurt and mercy
is the best kind of medicine.

It could be an invitation to gather
around the listening table
where every color is beautiful, where
there is no blame,
no shame, no them—no other.

It could be any of these things
or no thing at all, that remind
you that, really, only a few
things matter—

Food. Trees. Words. Love. Mostly love.

It Could Be by Julia Fehrenbacher from She Will Not Be Quiet © 2017


Be sure to check in with Bonny and read a bit more poetry!

See you all back here next week!

A Gathering of Poetry | December 2023

A Gathering of Poetry | December 2023

I have really been focused on “finding the joy” this month… some things have been bogging me down recently that have seemed determined to squeeze any bit of joy I might have out of me… so when I saw this poem on IG and then Kym posted something so perfect from the same poet last week…well, I don’t believe in coincidences. It was just the universe letting me know that it understood and was putting some joy in my path to pick up and hold on to when I needed it!

The poet is Donna Ashworth and the poem is Joy from Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper Reflection. I hope it brings to you more than what you need today.

Joy

by Donna Ashworth

Joy does not arrive with a fanfare,
on a red carpet strewn with the flowers of a perfect life.
Joy sneaks in, as you pour a cup of coffee,
watching the sun hit your favorite tree, just right.
And you usher joy away,
because you are not ready for it.
Your house is not as it must be,
for such a distinguished guest.
But joy cares nothing for your messy home,
or your bank-balance,
or your waistline, you see.
Joy is supposed to slither through the cracks of your
imperfect life,
that’s how joy works.
You cannot invite yer, you can only be ready when she
appears.
And hug her with meaning,
because in this very moment,
joy chose you.


My hope is that you find joy today… because she absolutely is choosing you!

A huge thanks to Bonny for making a space for us to share poetry! (if you want to join us, you can!)

 

A Gathering of Poetry | November 2023

A Gathering of Poetry | November 2023

I read poetry every day… often by random authors as I page through a poetry anthology. But lately, I have been focused on one spectacular poet, Naomi Shihab Nye. I am fortunate that my library has LOTS of her books!

Today, with no explanation… one amazing poem by Ms. Nye.

I Feel Sorry for Jesus

by Naomi Shihab Nye

People won’t leave Him alone.
I know He said, wherever two or more
are gathered in my name…
but I’ll bet some days He regrets it.

Cozily they tell you what He wants
and doesn’t want
as if they just got an email.
Remember “Telephone,” that pass-it-on game

where the message changed dramatically
by the time it rounded the circle?
Well.
People blame terrible pieties on Jesus.

They want to be his special pet.
Jesus deserves better.
I think He’s been exhausted
for a very long time.

He went into the desert, friends.
He didn’t go into the pomp.
He didn’t go into
the golden chandeliers.

and say, the truth tastes better here.
See? I’m talking like I know.
It’s dangerous talking for Jesus.
You get carried away almost immediately.

I stood in the spot where He was born.
I closed my eyes where He died and didn’t die.
Every twist of the Via Dolorosa
was written on my skin.

And that makes me feel like being silent
for Him, you know? A secret pouch
of listening. You won’t hear me
mention this again.

I Feel Sorry for Jesus from You & Yours, Poems by Naomi Shihab Nye © 2005 BOA Editions, Ltd. 


Thanks to Bonny for linking us all together! Stop and see what poetry is being shared today!

See you all here on Monday!

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