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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Sweet Darkness

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing,
The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and
the sweet confinement of your
aloneness to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

by David Whyte
From “The House of Belonging”

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Dove that ventured outside

Dove that ventured outside,      flying far from the dovecote:
housed and protected again,      one with the day, the night,
knows what serenity is,      for she has felt her wings
pass through all distance and fear      in the course of her wanderings.

The doves that remained at home,      never exposed to loss,
innocent and secure,      cannot know tenderness;
only the won-back heart      can ever be satisfied: free,
through all it has given up,      to rejoice in its mastery.

Being arches itself      over the vast abyss.
Ah the ball that we dared,      that we hurled into infinite space,
doesn’t it fill our hands      differently with its return:
heavier by the weight      of where it has been.

By Rainer Marie Rilke

The following is by Ivan Granger and this bountiful  offering of Poetry Chaikhana

http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/

The great German poet Rilke has reminds us to engage in the wondrous and terrible adventure of our lives. The dove “knows what serenity is, for she has felt her wings / pass through all distance and fear.”

I love the line:

only the won-back heart      can ever be satisfied

And that closing verse…

Being arches itself      over the vast abyss.
Ah the ball that we dared,      that we hurled into infinite space,
doesn’t it fill our hands      differently with its return:
heavier by the weight      of where it has been.

Wonderful!

I hear that line chanting itself through my mind…

Being arches itself      over the vast abyss.
Being arches itself      over the vast abyss…

Have a beautiful day!

Ivan thanks for Poetry Chaikhana . . .

When i read this one by Rilke was hoping you would comment on the form of the poem.

While going through a Kundalini Awakening this form came to me and have since found a couple of poems by Rilke that uses it. Did Rilke ever speak of this form of writing poems? Or do you know of other sacred poets that have tried to express sacred geometry through the form of poetry?

For me this form shows the energetic of the Yin/Yang symbol. The poem can be read as one whole poem both top to bottom and bottom to top, or can be read right top to right bottom (yin), left top to left bottom (yang) , right bottom to right top, left bottom to left top. It can also be read. Then if one imagines the poem to be rolled then it can be read top to bottom and bottom to top with yang leading yin. That would make eight different poems, and for me the ninth poem would be the overall dynamic energy of the whole and the parts in unity.

Thank you
sparrow


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When the heart is hard and parched up,
    come upon me with a shower of mercy.

When grace is lost from life,
    come with a burst of song.

When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides
    shutting me out from beyond,
    come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
    break open the door, my king,
    and come with the ceremony of a king.

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust,
    O thou holy one, thou wakeful,
    come with light and thunder.

Rabindranath Tagore
Gitanjali

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Caroline Myss in Newsletter, explains why it’s better to focus on what you really love than to look back on your pain if you hope to experience the true power of healing.

( I have read Caroline Myss off and on for years, and for me it is and/both. . .Without the release from the blocks of the past our life force energy becomes contracted and we are not able to move into the natural flow with is our true life experience, being a therapist for a number of years i know the deep healing found in removing the blocks to love so that one can fully reside there.  I found this to be such a tender story.)

” Many insights and experiences ultimately inspire a person to write a book. Defy Gravity, my new book, grew out of my desire to share my observations about the nature of healing. In particular, I wanted to introduce something I have come to believe is absolutely true: Healing is ultimately a mystical experience and not one that is generated by the force or determination of the power of the mind. By “mystical,” I’m referring to experiences that require grace in order to transcend the barriers of our minds, which are so often weighed down by the need to know why things happen as they do in our lives.

The truth is that when it comes to life’s traumas or sufferings that are rooted in memories of humiliation, there are no logical reasons we were the recipients of undeserved suffering—certainly not ones that will satisfy us. We can search for years to understand why we were not as loved as we should have been or why we were abused but in the end we are still left feeling hurt. Those scars, it seems, never really go away. They don’t go away because they can’t. They are a part of us. They formed us. So rather than seek to do what is impossible, we must strive to do what is essential: True healing requires that we find a routebeyond our pain so it does not control us or cause us to want to punish or control others. It’s also true, however, that we cannot “think” our way through an act of inner transformation, which is exactly what I’m describing. This type of inner work demands we defeat our reasoning minds and enlist deeper resources within ourselves, namely the power of our souls. And getting in touch with that power is without a doubt an act of grace generously given to those who ask.

When it comes to matters of the soul and grace, healing and personal transformation, I realize we’ve shifted to more etheric subject matter. So it’s been my experience that grace as a force of healing is best illustrated through a true story, and this is one that hopefully will touch your heart as deeply as it did mine. I put this in the category of a mystical healing experience because of the effect the interchange had upon the daughter and upon me. Perhaps the grace of this story will pass on to you and you too will feel for a moment what it means to “defy gravity”—that is, to be fully present in the here and now of your life, dwelling on love and not regrets. And let me tell you ahead of time that as incredible as this story may seem, this is exactly what happened.

While on my recent book tour for Defy Gravity, I had lunch at the Ritz-Carlton in Philadelphia. Seated at the next table were a mother and daughter. I learned through the fine art of eavesdropping that the daughter had taken her mother out for lunch to celebrate her 92nd birthday. Even though the mother was all dressed up, she still reminded me of a lovely little hummingbird, so tiny and fragile. As is the case with most people in their 90s, they no longer initiate conversation. So it was her daughter who did most of the talking, and since the daughter and I were practically seated back-to-back, it was impossible not to hear her as she reminisced about people who had once filled their lives.
.
.
“Well, those people were bad news, Mom. They weren’t really that nice to you,” said the daughter.


“Oh, I don’t remember that,” was the mother’s response as she kept her eyes on her lunch, reorganizing her salad with her fork. The subject changed to the mother’s sister, and though I couldn’t hear the details (as I really wasn’t eavesdropping in full gear—yet), I then heard the daughter say: “It’s true. Your sister was no angel.”


Hearing that comment, I glanced over at the mother to see her response.


“Funny, but I can’t recall those things,” said the lovely birthday hummingbird as she kept her eyes focused on her lunch. Her daughter then shifted the conversation to memories of her mother’s marriage to her father. Though I could not hear most of the specifics, it just happened that I heard her say: “Oh, Mom, I could tell you stories about Dad, believe me. You had a rough time with him.”


“I did?” the mom replied, never revealing her eyes. “I don’t remember.”


“You sure did.” And just as the daughter began to elaborate on those difficult times, this little hummingbird of a mother put down her fork and made direct eye contact with her daughter. With the most gentle smile on her face, she said: “I don’t want to remember those things anymore, Ann. Remind me, now, of what I loved. Remind me of what I loved about your father. I only want to be reminded of love.”


That line not only drew the breath out of her daughter; it completely captivated my attention. I sat perfectly still. I could actually feel the impact that request had upon the daughter’s heart. The mother had shot an arrow directly into the bitter wounds that were obviously possessing her daughter.

Now my eavesdropping on their intimate conversation was deliberate. I had to hear the daughter’s response. I had to watch her face as she grappled with her mother’s request to utilize her heart as a means to access memories of love she herself could no longer recall. It was obvious the daughter wanted to refuse her mother’s request, but how could she? This was her mother’s 92nd birthday. Saying no was not an option. I even found an excuse to adjust my chair so that I could observe the daughter’s expressions as she psychically allowed her mother’s well-worn heart to board her shattered heart in order to travel back in time. Sojourning into memories in search of love instead of pain was not something the daughter had anticipated. Love, after all, is the most healing of graces. She took a deep breath and with a much softer voice, she said, “Well, Mom,” then in a much softer tone of voice, “you loved the way Dad used to tease you.”


“I did?” the mother asked.


“Yes, you did. And he always gave you roses on your birthday, Mom. Today Dad would have given you a lovely bouquet of roses because you love roses,” the daughter said.


“Oh,” said the mother, her smile becoming more illuminated. “I think I remember that.”


“And you know that heart [necklace] you always wear, the one around your neck right now? Well, Dad surprised you with that on your 25th wedding anniversary,” the daughter said. The mother reached for the small gold heart around her neck, touching it gently with her fingers.


“No wonder I never want to take this off,” she said. Then, this exquisite little hummingbird of a mother noticed her daughter was wiping away tears from her eyes. She reached across the table for her daughter’s hand and said, “Honey, don’t wait until you’re my age to have to ask someone else to remind you of what you loved in your life. Be wise enough to remind yourself of that every day because someday those memories might just fade away like mine did and the memories I miss the most are about the people I know I loved.”


By this time, I was wiping away tears. As I watched this mother and daughter embrace, I recognized the healing handiwork of grace as only grace could so elegantly and silently transform a conversation filled with pain into one that lifted the weight from a daughter’s heart. Only the power of grace could transform a mother into the rare air of the Sage, gifting her daughter wisdom from her soul so powerful as to transform the whole of her life within the content of a couple of sentences.

This conversation captured the essence of what it means to “defy gravity.” In an instant, this daughter had released the weight of past wounds, replacing them with the healing force of wisdom and love. Ordinary words could never have accomplished such a feat. Healing is indeed a mystical experience, and one never knows when grace will come to call. I left that lunch having imprinted the request of that precious 92-year-old woman into my heart: Remind me of what I love. What could be a more splendid prayer of reflection than that? And what a gift they were to me on my book tour. I will always believe that being seated next to them was no accident.

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landlocked in fur

I was meditating with my cat the other day

and all the sudden she shouted,

“What happened?”

I knew exactly what she meant,

but encouraged her to say more,

feeling that if she got it all out

on the table, she would

sleep better that night.

So, i responed, ” Tell me more dear”,

and she soulfully meowed,

“Well, I was mingled with the sky,

I was comets whizzing here and there.

I was suns in heat, hell— I was galaxies.

But now look—

I am landlocked in fur.”

What to say about conversations

between mystics?

Tukaram

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more on trees

we start out thin and green
each time the sky grows dark
we think we will break
but the downpour makes us grow
though never straight
always twisting for the light
and struggling
the more we reach above the earth
the deeper something in us fingers its way down
and it is this—our unseen fingers—
reaching for the core—
that keeps us from blowing away
now there is no more running
and very little swaying
and up until now
there have been many languages
though none can be heard
just a creak at dawn
and a moan at night
and sooner or later
we are brought down
but staked we burn
and here the poetry rises from us
leaving wisdom in the ash
mark napo

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Let only that little be left of me
whereby I may name thee my all.
~
Let only that little be left of my will
whereby I may feel thee on every side,
and come to thee in everything
and offer to thee my love every moment.
~
Let only that little be left of me
whereby I may never hide thee
~
Let only that little of my fetters be left
whereby I am bound by thy will,
and thy purpose is carried out in my life,
and that is the fetter of thy love.
~

Tagore

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Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here.
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again,
saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
David Walcott

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unconditional

Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere;
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within;
Opening to my lost,
I gain the embrace of the universe,
I find fullness without end.
Each condition I flee from pursues me,
Each condition I welcome transforms me,
And becomes itself transformed.
I bow to the one that has made it so,
Who has crafted this Master game.
To play it is perfect delight;
To honor it’s form—true devotion
.
Jennifer Welwood

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how could it been so cheap?

i am all hollowed out now
like a reed
i gave everything for this
and still i laughingly wonder
how could it been so cheap?


adyashanti

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