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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Hoax of heart

Back from the start

A loving house of cards

Can’t fix what isn’t

Yours to mend

A mirror, turned to shards

 

White she wore

When pure to core

Took years to get her there

White nails, fit and tan

For him, fulfilled his

Every dare

 

Finally!!

She gave herself

To him, so free and clear

He blessed her with

A ring so dear

Then tapered her worst fear:

 

Pulled the plug

For virtue’s sake

Tuck shirt and straighten tie

Midwest hypocrisy

A farmer’s tan, where rings,

Now gone, ask why?

 

T’was sweet as hyssop

Meant to cleanse

As good herbs always do

But overdose

Now comatose

Beneath the Gulf so blue

 

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tears of sorrow

tears of grief

tears roll daily

no relief

lame distractions

cheapened hope

castaway dreams

frayed rope

perfect storm

of guillotines

natty to rags

ball gowns to jeans

for the better

was the goal

end result

darkened soul

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Can you see a few different paths in this photo?

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Crooked path my life has wrought,

A straight one just could not be sought

 

Had I walked a path so straight,

The views might not have been so great

 

I got to see both here and there

And felt like I went everywhere

 

Thank you, God, for varied ways

And different trails yet to blaze

 

The shortest route may seem the best

But zig-zag paths are truly blessed!

 

 

 

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This tiny fellow stared me down a few moments ago. I was finishing mopping the floors and had the kitchen door open to welcome the warm afternoon breeze to help dry the floors. He just hovered and dared me to linger long enough to snap this shot:

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He was kind of big as bees come, yet still so tiny compared to me and my kitchen door.

So why did my heart race when he menacingly remained hovering at eye level to me, unlike most bees? And why did I jump when he lunged toward my camera?

How great a physical and psychological response some of the tiniest of things create! What power we give to tiny things!

What kinds of tiny things do you make mountains from and allow to control you?

And are there other tiny things we ignore which really require greater attention?

Hey God, thank You for the tiny things that get our attention…please help us to discern if these things are meant to take up a tiny part of our energy – like what table linens and crystal to choose for the Thanksgiving dinner table…

…Or if it’s one of those tiny things that we tend to dismiss that actually deserves greater attention – like not realizing that the neighbor or friend who appears to have it all together, may not have the resources this year to even buy a turkey for their family.

Let us, when we feel tiny, stare down the mountains in our path and know that we can move them if we try.

Let us, when we encounter the seemingly tiniest of things, take a moment to consider how great they are in their own right.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the persecuted, the peacemakers! Bless the tiny things, Lord…

*****

Buzzy buzzy, honey bee
Buzzing, staring, right at me

Why’d you pick my kitchen door
To visit me once I’d cleaned my floor?

Tiny, small, you do appear
Yet large must be your bee career

If I could only follow you,
I’d see much greater credit due

For though I’m bigger than a bee,
Your job is bigger than I see

My big fat problems can’t compare
To those in need with nought to spare

So help me, God, to clearly see
The greatness in this tiny bee.

 

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Today I had the privilege of working with a homicidal patient who is partial to philosophy. This can present a challenge as a therapist, in that one must steer the patient away from an unhealthy amount of overthinking – and yet insight comes from a certain degree of thinking beyond the garden gate.

My patient quoted a line from a poem by Rumi (see below), so I brought it up on my device and together we tried to untangle the mystery of whether the darkness of mental illness is a guest in our lives, or if we are a guest in the darkness.

We wrestled with how to achieve mindfulness; to tolerate, endure and to even embrace the unexpected or the unwelcome. We contemplated how to find balance. We considered if it is pain or freedom that is fleeting and temporary. 

While we mused, she played in the kinetic sand tray on my desk. Afterwards, I observed aloud how, when talking about her pain and darkness, she stabbed at the sand and carved deep but symmetrical gashes. When she spoke of healing and hope, she used the roller to smooth it out. Someone had left the sand in mostly one half of the tray; I commented that as she had approached it, she met it where it was – she did not attempt to rearrange it, only made impressions on it. 

“What do you make of that?” she asked.

“Mmmmm….” I paused, “What do YOU make of it?”

She broke out in a broad smile for the first time I’d seen.

Yes, “meet them at the door laughing and invite them in!”

Here is how she left the sand – what do YOU make of it?

  
THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.
— Jelaluddin Rumi,

    translation by Coleman Barks

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Redeemed

breathing without breath

screaming to be heard

under churning waters

can’t say a word

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caught in the trap:

to open up and breathe

would invite drowning

deluge and bereave

 

somehow there is peace

in the panic within

the feelings subside

when forgiven of sin

 

at last all is made

right with the world

swept to His feet,

lying battered and curled

image

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

here i can stay

for a while or two

no judgment or cares

only redemption is due

image

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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