Tag: poem

Darkness and Light

If taking a moment to ponder a poem looks like bliss, this post is for you. If it looks like torture, this post is also for you as a possible mindfulness exercise.

Approach the words from a point of present moment awareness, let this be an invitation to read them and let them go without attempting to process or understand them, and be present with only the word held in your mind at that moment. If you could hover a light over only one word at the time, pausing with each one as a momentary discovery, what would your take away be?

Would there be any coherence? Would that matter?

Darkness and Light

By Stephen Spender

To break out of the chaos of my darkness

Into a lucid day is all my will.

My words like eyes in night, stare to reach

A centre for their light: and my acts thrown

To distant places by impatient violence

Yet lock together to mould a path of stone

Out of my darkness into a lucid day.

Yet, equally, to avoid that lucid day

And to preserve my darkness, is all my will.

My words like eyes that flinch from light, refuse

And shut upon obscurity; my acts

Cast to their opposites by impatient violence

Break up the sequent path; they fly

On a circumference to avoid the centre.

To break out of my darkness towards the centre

Illumines my own weakness, when I fail;

The iron arc of the avoiding journey

Curves back upon my weakness at the end;

Whether the faint light spark against my face

Or in the dark my sight hide from my sight,

Centre and circumference are both my weakness.

O strange identity of my will and weakness!

Terrible wave white with the seething word!

Terrible flight through the revolving darkness!

Dreaded light that hunts my profile!

Dreaded night covering me in fears!

My will behind my weakness silhouettes

My territories of fear, with a great sun.

I grow towards the acceptance of that sun

Which hews the day from night. The light

Runs from the dark, the dark from light

Towards a black or white of total emptiness.

The world, my body, binds the dark and light

Together, reconciles and separates

In lucid day the chaos of my darkness.

✨

Tete-a-tete

Tete-a-tete

by Navakanta Barua

Ah, it is pleasant
We are sitting ,simply sitting
Sitting silently.
I have so many things to tell
Which I know I cannot, shall not tell

Last night I talked with me 
Of too many this and that—-
I was in an anguish to tell

But now 
This is enough——we are sitting.
The sun above is throwing little pebbles of its rays
Through the leaves of the tree,
They are falling on your nose, lips and arms
Not on mine
We are sitting, sitting —-
And we have had our talk.

———————————————————-

Sometimes we do intend to say something and find ourselves coming together in silence instead. At times, we need moments of peace together and at other times, to unburden our hearts. There is beauty in both and wisdom in giving yourself space to pause in consideration over when it’s time to speak and when it’s time to remain quiet.

Trust your sharing and trust your pauses too.

Almost Spring

Can you feel the daylight stretching to meet the darkness in equal length?

To honor the extending light, a poem from E.E. Cummings that demonstrates his unconventional phrasing and punctuation:

[in Just-]

in Just- 

spring          when the world is mud- 

luscious the little 

lame balloonman 

whistles          far          and wee 

and eddieandbill come 

running from marbles and 

piracies and it’s 

spring 

when the world is puddle-wonderful 

the queer 

old balloonman whistles 

far          and             wee 

and bettyandisbel come dancing 

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and 

it’s 

spring 

and 

         the 

                  goat-footed 

balloonMan          whistles 

far 

and 

wee

________________________

I hope you’ll pause with this and consider how something different in the day could stretch your internal light. What nonsensical joy can lighten your load, even just for a moment? The rhyme and the reason need not hold hands in every moment! Be free for a bit.

With love —

Filled with Light

When I am Among the Trees

by Mary Oliver 

When I am among the trees, 
especially the willows and the honey locust, 
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, 
they give off such hints of gladness. 
I would almost say that they save me, and daily. 

I am so distant from the hope of myself, 
in which I have goodness, and discernment, 
and never hurry through the world 
but walk slowly, and bow often. 

Around me the trees stir in their leaves 
and call out, ”Stay awhile.” 
The light flows from their branches. 

And they call again, ”It's simple,” they say, 
”and you too have come 
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled 
with light, and to shine.”

Widening Circles

A poem by Rainer Maria Rilke

Widening circles

I live my life in widening circles

that reach out across the world.

I may not complete this last one

but I will give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.

I’ve been circling for thousands of years

and still I don’t know: am I a falcon,

a storm, or a great song?

Slow Steps

The Poet Dreams of the Mountain 

by Mary Oliver

Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts.
I want to climb some old gray mountain, slowly, taking
the rest of my lifetime to do it, resting often, sleeping
under the pines or, above them, on the unclothed rocks.


I want to see how many stars are still in the sky
that we have smothered for years now, a century at least.
I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all,
and peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know.


All that urgency! Not what the earth is about!
How silent the trees, their poetry being of themselves only.
I want to take slow steps, and think appropriate thoughts.
In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall.