Poetry is Given - May Sarton

Poetry seems to me so much a true work
of the soul... Poetry [is] given...
In a state of grace, when the deep channels are open,
and when they are, when I am both profoundly "stirred"
and balanced, the poetry comes as a gift from powers
beyond my will...

The poem is primarily a dialogue with the Self,
and the novel a dialogue with others.  They come
from entirely different modes of being...

May Sarton
From - The Journal of a Solitude

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Poetry - Hannah Frankman

Silly people
Who think poetry happens
At a clean desk
With a candle lit
At "writing time."
I write my poetry
Standing knee deep in the ocean;
Steering with my knee cap on a back road;
Under the arm of a lover;
Waiting for my squash to cook.

Poetry is not a place
Or a time of day.
It's a way of being.

Hannah Frankman

Published with permission of the author

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Sanctuary...

How quickly I turn away from
the sanctity of Silence,
the
Stillness
within…

allowing the mind to take me
to the next “thing”,
and the next “thing,
and the next “thing,”

distracting myself
from the awareness of

the
quiescence
of
an
internal
abiding
Sanctuary



How easy to follow the mind
to other places and other spaces:
an anxiety,
a worry,
a thought about some

*thing.*

How hard to stay with “just this,”
this moment,
this experience,
and not want to know where I’m going
and how I’m going to get there…

How hard it is to “just rest”
in the abode of
Silent Awareness…

Sanctuary

The soft embrace of
”The Beloved”
so intimate
I
realize,


“The Beloved” and “I” are One…


Sanctuary

“The Beloved”
intimately enfolding
and unfolding
everything
as ItSelf
in
compassionate
Knowing Awareness.


Sanctuary


“The Beloved” knowing ‘me’ as ItSelf;
‘me’ knowing ‘me’ as “The Beloved.”


Sanctuary


Silent
Knowing
Compassionate
Awareness;
our True Nature;
the internal abode
of
“The Beloved.”


Sanctuary


Empties
the
meandering
mind
momentarily
of
its
restless
distractions.





Mystic Meandering
copyright
December 24, 2011

Poet's Posts...

My husband brought me this pin from a womens business workshop that he video taped in November. I was surprised that he thought of me as a “Poet.” I had to let that sink in. It gave me the opportunity to accept this about myself. I grew up finding solace and expression in poetry. I have been writing poetry since age 11, but I never really thought of myself as “a poet.” (Not that I *need* that identity, but it was interesting to get a glimpse of how others might see me.) Writing in poetic form comes naturally to me – especially prose poems. I seem to have a poet’s view of life – seeing life poetically, lyrically – no matter what the mood. :)

I love the rhythmic fluidity, and the word-craft of poetry, especially taking my journal notes and turning them into prose poems – creating language in motion. I also like creating a pictorial rhythm with the words, almost like “poetry art” – forming fluidity on the page, which I’ve done with the most recent poems of the past year. And of course I love the ones where the words just spill out from that sacred space within during times of meditation and silence that need no word-crafting. My poems are of a “spiritual nature” as you may have guessed. I write about being in Silence and Stillness; about “The Beloved”; remembering the Heart of who we are – our True Nature; about Light; about the aliveness of Nature; about the Earth; about just Being; about the “Self”; about “Awakening”; about “The Flow.” Some might be considered more “cosmic” in nature – writing about the Universe, galaxies, stars and such. Most have been written while in meditation, or as a result of meditating.

It occurred to me that the poems that I have posted on this blog have gotten lost in the archives. And so I have created links to these past poems in the right side margin as an offering for those who like prose poetry and might find them inspiring – which of course I hope you do. :) Just scroll down to the photo of the “Poet” pin under the picture of the bridge. I realize that not everyone likes poetry, and what I write may not be everyone’s cup of tea, so-to-speak. But I invite you to take a gander. They are listed from the most current on the top to oldest on the bottom.

Mary Oliver has said this about poetry:

“Poetry is prayer, it is passion and story and music, it is beauty, comfort, it is agitation, declaration, it is thanksgiving… Often poetry is the gate to a new life. Poetry can quicken, enliven the interior world of the listener.” (And I would say that this is also true for the Poet as well. :) She says, “poetry is a life-cherishing force… For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold…”

So if you have an ear and heart for poetry, and some time on your hands, snuggle up to the fire, and be warmed as you read them…

Winter Walk - "Hibernating Land..."

Frozen earth bound in time,
waiting for the thaw;
allowing flow and movement
to regain rhythm and rhyme…

Frozen streams of frosted glass,
crystallize the sun;
creating an opaque light

that illuminates the path...

The silence of the hibernating land,
speaks in loud whispers
through the firs,

as life still stirs -
while lying dormant…

Soul callers of the sky
fly in familiar formation,
following their
homing call;
unaffected by the
earth’s quiescent luminescence
of hibernation…




Mystic Meandering
From: “Hibernating Land”
originally written Jan. 1998
Revised Dec. 2011
copyright

Snowflakes Into Infinity

We are but snowflakes

falling into Infinity,

passing through this reality

in free fall ~ temporary.

Crystalline beauty melting away.

The beauty of Self appearing in the Void

in countless shapes and forms,

just passing through in

temporary states of existence.

We are snowstars within the

dark sky of the No-thingness,

within The Great Mystery,

sparkling through space and time ~

until our lamp burns out

and our light melts back into Infinity again ~

Mystic Meandering

Copyright November 12, 2006

Updated December 5, 2009

funky art :) – Christine

New Poem on ASS

Now that I have your attention :) And yes, that’s my husband’s butt…

I am posting the debut of a "new" poem here and on my website: A Serenity Sanctuary (ASS).

If you like prose poetry and haven’t yet visited my offerings you can read them on the Celestial Songs page. Most all of the prose poems emerged in moments of awakening. Some are very cosmic and existential sounding. All are of a “spiritual” nature – expressions from the Stillness. They are offered as an invitation to touch and be touched by Serenity.

If you’re not into poetry but are interested in more musings, there are several on the Musings page covering topics like Stillness, Meditation, and Enlightenment.

And so, let the unveiling begin… From my Heart to yours –

The Whisper…

The Rhythm of the Silence calls me
back into Itself again and again…
It waits patiently while I move
through my stories – through my illusions.

The Rhythm invites me to dance –
to sway to its movement –
to hear its pulse –
like a whisper in the background of noise
trying to get my attention.

I have to be still to hear the whisper
of the Rhythm speaking softly –
come, be with me
come and be still
come, listen, hear me
come, dance with me
come, be with me
come and be still

I turn my attention to listen curiously,
as if someone has spoken behind me.
I wait and listen – aware.
The Rhythm rises – palpable.
It draws me to it.

I bow to the whisper of The Rhythm.
We embrace and dance the dance of Stillness.
Partners in Silence…
Mystic Meandering
copyright
March 17, 2009