Monday, 1 April 2019

She let go - Jennifer Eckert Bernau

Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear. 
She let go of judgments. 
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her. 
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. 
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She just let go.
She let go of all the memories that held her back. 
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right. 
She didn’t promise to let go. 
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer. 
She made no public announcement. 
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. 
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. 
She didn’t utter one word.
She just let go.
No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle. 
It wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be. 
A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.
Here’s to giving ourselves the gift of letting go…
There’s only one guru ~ you.

Tuesday, 19 March 2019

A Ritual to Read to Each Other By William E. Stafford

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

Saturday, 10 March 2018

Leave-Taking by Louise Bogan

I do not know where either of us can turn 
Just at first, waking from the sleep of each other. 
I do not know how we can bear 
The river struck by the gold plummet of the moon, 
Or many trees shaken together in the darkness.
We shall wish not to be alone 
And that love were not dispersed and set free
Though you defeat me, 
And I be heavy upon you. 

But like earth heaped over the heart 
Is love grown perfect. 
Like a shell over the beat of life 
Is love perfect to the last. 
So let it be the same 
Whether we turn to the dark or to the kiss of another; 
Let us know this for leavetaking, 
That I may not be heavy upon you, 
That you may blind me no more.

Sunday, 17 September 2017

I so liked Spring by Charlotte Mew

I so liked Spring last year

Because you were here; -

The thrushes too -

Because it was these you so liked to hear -

I so liked you.

 

This year's a different thing,  -

I'll not think of you.

But I'll like the Spring because it is simply Spring

As the thrushes do.

Monday, 11 September 2017

Stars By Jeff Foster

You are tired, friend.
 Your body aches to rest.
 Give in.
 You have wanted to fall apart for so long.
 To let go of your defences.
 To be transparent and authentic.

Your cynicism has protected you.
 Your fear has served you well.
 Your dreams of enlightenment were beautiful dreams.
 But there is no need to hold your 'self' together any longer.

Surrender.
 Or simply stop pretending that you don't know 'how'.
 Fail.
 Fall.
 The vastness will hold you.
 Only illusions can disappear.

The deeper the heart breaks
 The more love it can hold.

 Don't tell me you are not worthy.
 Don't tell me you are not made of stars.

Failing and Flying By Jack Gilbert

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end, or the marriage fails and people say they knew it was a mistake, that everybody said it would never work.
That she was old enough to know better.

But anything worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that anyone could tell you they would never last.

Every morning she was asleep in my bed like a visitation, the gentleness in her like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky on the other side of that.
Listened to her while we ate lunch.

How can they say the marriage failed? Like the people who came back from Provence (when it was Provence) and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

Wednesday, 25 November 2015

'I would like to be a dot in a painting by Miro' by Moniza Alvi

I would like to be a dot in a painting by Miro.
Barely distinguishable from other dots,
it's true, but quite uniquely placed.
And from my dark centre
I'd survey the beauty of the linescape
and wonder - would it be worthwhile
to roll myself towards the lemon stripe,
Centrally poised, and push my curves
against it's edge, to get myself
a little extra attention?
But it's fine where I am.
I'll never make out what's going on
around me, and that's the joy of it.
The fact that I'm not a perfect circle
makes me more interesting in this world.
People will stare forever -
Even the most unemotional get excited.
So here I am, on the edge of animation,
a dream, a dance, a fantastic construction,
A child's adventure.
And nothing in this tawny sky
can get too close, or move too far away.

Flowers by Wendy Cope

  Some men never think of it. You did. You’d come along And say you’d nearly brought me flowers But something had gone wrong. The shop was c...