By the river, stories of being

Earlier in August, I took myself to a delightful place in the woods by a river, for a retreat time of rest and writing, wondering and wandering, reflecting and receiving. Something about the woods and water does so much to return me home to my soul, to the wild wonders both within and without.

I wrote so much and took so many photos of everything that struck my eyes and spirit as magical and mystical. As always, the hardest part for me is curating and distilling all that I want to share into one offering, a mindful morsel, accessible and absorbable! So – here is what chose itself, at least for this offering!

Note: for reading reference, the bolded words represent the start of a new stanza. Due to the quirks of my editor programs and the vast amount of tedious work needed to manipulate the formatting and spacing of poetry, I chose to keep it simpler and less stressful by choosing that option especially since the desired shape of each poem was preserved!

By the river, stories of being (a poem series)

By the river, a story of being

Right here, right now

no stories about me exist

I am

         my own story

We named water, water

We named river, river

We made stories about water

                                  about river

Yet the water, the river

what name does it have for itself

or – are they content to be

         to be in their existence

do they need to name themselves

                                                                    to be

Or perhaps, mayhap most likely

water just is

river just is

and its/their Is-ness

                           is enough

For me, could it be?

or do I need names

               my many names

      to convey my existence

           expressions of my existence

                  my manner of being

                  in this body, this world

     to send messages of all my ‘Who-ness’

     to not allow my ‘Who-ness’ to be

                  defined by others

     to say, I and only I

                  name my ‘Who-ness’

Yet – my Who-ness  is not the sum

                  of my Is-ness

                       my being-ness

                  my Is-ness is greater yet

                        beyond Name

I am

         my own story

The water is its own story

The river is their own story

And our existence, our Life, our Being

         our Is-ness, is

                enough

Our Who-ness matters

         yet greater be

         our Is-ness

*********************************

The water, the river is real

being named doesn’t make it/them

             more or less real

                         or true

              their Truth is beyond

                         their naming

My realness, my Trueness

       is beyond name, beyond

                   all Names

I am

*****************************

Naming matters

         names matter

         because they express elements

         of our Who-ness real and true to us

         because they express meaning

         highlight nuances, carry

         messages, and craft stories

         because they are mirrors

         because they are a matrix

                a latticework

               of shared, shareable

               meaning, Truth, Life

*********************************

Spirit of River

       my teacher be

       teach me to flow

                 and sing freely

                 as do you

Spirit of River

         my teacher be

         teach me your fluidity

         for I would be free

River Rocks

The rocks by the river

                     are just rocks

They are as they are –

                     truth in themselves

                              real

Yet

       just for this time

               they represented

                stories I told myself

                stories that I am surrendering

                                letting the river

                                                                take

They represented

           attitudes, beliefs, choices

           dead things

           that serve, have served, me not well

A choice already made

            to let dead things go

            to let dead things be dead

            yet sealed symbolically

            in giving them to the river

The rocks remain real, they remain

            true in themselves

            untainted, unmarked

            only for a moment

            did they carry representation

                                             of death

They were clean, remain clean

           it is only I

           who need(ed) cleansing

They were never dead

            it is only I

            who need(ed) resurrection

River and rock cannot give

            resurrection

            yet they can represent

            the gift I give for myself

A clean, real life

             flowing free

             actions, attitudes

             beliefs, behaviors

             calm, clear choices

             deep Love

             ever True

Easter Hope Rising

The stories of Holy Week and Easter season carry such rich imagery and always seem to lend themselves to deep metaphorical reflection and visioning, for me. One doesn’t have to name oneself as Christian to draw from this deep well of living metaphor, or to see how it uncannily, without fail, reflects the troubled, complex, both/and state of (my) humanity and the world in these quarantine days – darkness and light, grief and grace, loss and abundance, co-existing all together, backlit by hope rising.

Something in me continues to love keeping the Easter vigil, especially in those deep wild still hours of the night, and even though we couldn’t keep the Easter vigil at our church this year, we had the invitation to keep vigil at home. And so I purposed to keep vigil through the night til the morning, through those deep wild still hours … Prepared candles and incense and a place to sit in silence and a place to write as the Spirit so moved.

And the Spirit so moved, in this way! This is a wrenching, raw cry from the deepest places of my heart and soul, bowed in grief, lifted in grace – for me and for the world, hope for me and you and the world.I hadn’t necessarily intended to share this poem publicly, because it’s so nakedly personal – these are some of my deepest aches, vanities, and longings, core wounds and spiritual struggles. The old patterns, old pains, that keep rising up as I keep peeling layers upon layers, seeking deeper healing, truer, freer living … this quarantine Easter season has brought so much to the surface, for me, for us all, for our world …
Yet it seems right to be open, if there is anything that may speak to other hearts, too.

With much love and hope, I bow and share this from the Spirit with you, beloved ones!

Rise, Leave the Graveclothes

It is time to leave the tomb
I have been there a while
Not alive but dead to life deepened
                        dead not alive
                        not alive, not risen
                        not living nor rising
In a tomb
                   I have been
It is time to arise
                   leave this tomb
                   return no more
                   to this place
Rise, leave the graveclothes behind
                   seal the tomb
                   return no more
                   to this death
 
Resentment, toxic envy
                  bitterness of seeing others
                  richly clothed in honor and influence
                  you have sought
                  but feel nakedly unknown
               Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
               Rise, leave the graveclothes
                                        Seal this tomb
                                        free, walk in light
                                                  clothed new
 
Praise and honor craved
                    from some, stories
                    and needs carried
                    unmet, not to be met
                   still worn, worn to tatters
               Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
               Rise, leave the graveclothes
                                         Seal this tomb
                                         free, walk in light
                                                    clothed new
 
Desires to have your words
                    known, esteemed, quoted
                    to carry weight in the world
                    and ring wild into the Night
               This want to be a thought leader
                              a spirit leader
                              a standard bearer of belovedness
              Graveclothes
                                     nothing but graveclothes
              Rise, leave the graveclothes
                                         Seal this tomb
                                         free, walk in light
                                                    clothed new
              Understanding, a mirror held to you
                                  you may fancy yourself
                                  prophet or poet
                                  mystic or mother to the world
                                  and wish this seen
                                  but these, small ego longings
                                  they are
              Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
              Rise, leave the graveclothes
                                         Seal this tomb
                                         free, walk in light
                                                    clothed new
 
The trappings of ego, social norms
                   the pressure to be doing
                   creating, producing
                   squeezed by deadening belief
                   you are only relevant
                   in doing and known to be
                                                                      doing
                                                done, I am
               Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
               Rise, leave ego’s graveclothes
                                             seal its tomb
                                             Free, walk in light
                                                        clothed new
                                                  Enfleshed grace –
                              Don’t you yet know –
                                         you are Relevant
                                         by being Risen
                                         awake, alive
                                         enlivened, enfleshed
                                                     Grace
 
Comparisons – of your children
                    to the shiny-ness of others’
                    children, achievers, actively known
                              much praised
                    names held in golden esteem
               Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
               (and these – graveclothes
                         your children themselves
                         are not wearing
                         because you have well taught
                         them not to put them on
                                             so why must you!)
               Graveclothes
                                       nothing but graveclothes
               Rise, leave these graveclothes
                                         seal the tomb
                                         free, walk in light clothed
                                             Awake, alive, eyes clear
                              to see light embodied in your children
                                                  as they are
                                 love them into their authentic
                                                  best selves
                              and do not offer them graveclothes, of any sort
                                                     to wear
                                  or model for them graveclothes
                          Model for them the rising
                                             and the leaving
                                             of the graveclothes
                                             the sealing of the tomb
                                             the walking free, in light
 
Comparisons, self-condemnations
                     spirit-quenching judgments
                     robbing joy and justice
                     In blindness, holding onto
                                             unlit candles
                                light of others unseen, unhonored
                                your own light unlit
                                             un-risen, un-enfleshed
               Graveclothes
                                        nothing but graveclothes
 
Rise! Leave the graveclothes
               all graveclothes
               seal the tomb
Free! Walk in light, clothed
      awake and alive
                 Risen
 
Risen, enfleshed Grace
            dry bones enlivened
                  clothed in
                        Light
 
Rise!
          Leave the graveclothes
               of this past life
                                             (death)
               of what was thought normal
                              but was
                                             death
          These graveclothes, they are
                              but tatters and they stink
                              Shake them free
                              dust, they disintegrate
                              shake the dust free
                              rise and walk
                              Return no more
                              to this death
                              Risen, return to life
 
Things that have been thought normal in this world
                       scarcity, lack, greed
                       busyness and exhaustion
                       body and soul and earth depletion
                       unkindness and heart blindness
                       violence and war
                       inequity and injustice
               Graveclothes
                                       nothing but graveclothes
                       that are and belong
                                                               to death
               Let us all rise, leave these graveclothes
                              Seal the tombs we have made
                             for one another,
                              seal them
                              return to them no more
               Free, let us walk in light clothed
                              together Risen