Kategoriarkiv: Poetry

Sitting in silence

A grown up man
sets out on a journey
to meet himself.

Perhaps at six,
with light in his eyes.
and love in his heart.

He sets out to explain why his life
has taken him to a place
belonging to someone else.

But he can’t!

He just sits in silence
with tears in his eyes
and grief in his heart.

Where is home?

Home.

I’ve missed it,

my whole life.

The place

where I belong.

The place

for rest,

safety,

belonging.

The place

where I can be I,

and you can be you.

My whole life

has been a search

for the way home.

Home to myself.

What is my pain?

It’s strange.

I never thought of myself as a lover.

But it touches me deeply.

My pain is a loving sensitivity.

Perhaps?

Different stories come to my mind.

I’ll tell them another time.

Maybe all this is a construction?

But I think not.

Right now!

Victoria Safford on freedom

You know, we do it every day. Every morning we go out blinking into the glare of our freedom, into the wilderness of work and the world, making maps as we go, looking for signs that we’re on the right path. And on some good days we walk right out of our oppressions, those things that press us down from the outside or (as often) from the inside; we shake off the shackles of fear, prejudice, timidity, closed-mindedness, selfishness, self-righteousness, and claim our freedom outright, terrifying as it is—our freedom to be human, and humane.
— Victoria Safford 1

Notes:
1 Victoria Safford, Walking Toward Morning, p. 1.

Preservation of the soul

Here is Jeffrey Mishlove’s interview with David Whyte
on the preservation of the soul, waking up, and saving our lives.

LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushed beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here.
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
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 does is lost on you,
You are truly lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
—Native American elder
(Poem rendered into modern English by David Wagoner)

Different voices

The voice of intellect talks about facts and theories.
The voice of emotion talks about joy and anger.
The voice of will talks about effort and results.
The voice of ego talks about pride and shame.
The voice of soul talks about generosity and hope.

Hold tensions rather than create them.
Build bridges rather than walls.

Reference: Parker J. Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward An Undivided Life, pages 183–184.

Det gör ont när knoppar brister – Vila i den tillit som skapar världen (Karin Boye)

Ja, visst gör det ont när knoppar brister” ur ”För trädets skull” (1935) av Karin Boye.

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider –
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra –
svårt att vilja stanna och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden –
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit som skapar världen.

 

 

 

 

There is no map to human behavior

Björk Guðmundsdóttir on Human Behavior:

”If you ever get close to a human
and human behavior
be ready to get confused

there’s definitely no logic
to human behavior
but yet so irresistible

there is no map
to human behavior

they’re terribly moody
then all of a sudden turn happy
but, oh, to get involved in the exchange
of human emotions is ever so satisfying

there’s no map and
a compass
wouldn’t help at all

human behavior”

Tomas Tranströmer

Det finns mitt i skogen en oväntad glänta som bara kan hittas av den som har gått vilse
– Tomas Tranströmer

In the middle of the forest there’s an unexpected clearing that can only be found by those who have gotten lost.
– Tomas Tranströmer