If you can’t pray a real prayer, prayhypocritically, full of doubtand dry-mouthed.God acceptscounterfeitmoneyas thoughit were real!- Rumi
If Prayer Would Do It
If prayer would do it
If reading esteemed thinkers would do it
I’d be halfway through the Patriarchs.
If discourse would do it
I’d be sitting with His Holiness
every moment he was free.
If contemplation would do it
I’d have translated the Periodic Table
to hermit poems, converting
matter to spirit.
If even fighting would do it
I’d already be a black belt.
If anything other than love could do it
I’d have done it already
and left the hardest for last.
Source: Breaking the Drought
Add your thoughts at inward/outward
To gaze upon the fatal
without commiserating gloom:
what every friend should be—
not one who rends her coat of doom
nor one who lets her ankle rankle
nor her dogged love to the hounds.
Be the cat in catastrophe
who survives eight more dives.
Though in the clutch of damage
a dame must age,
in the crazy-quilt of guilt
it was never your fault.
In the company of morose
always pull out the rose.
Copyright © 2013 by Sharon Dolin.
A Quaker Advice — “In view of the harm done by the use of alcohol, tobacco and other habit-forming drugs, consider whether you should limit your use of them or refrain from using them altogether.”
Okay. Good advice. I’ve thought about it. No “other habit-forming drugs” for this bad Quaker. But time now to go walk in the woods with my pipe burning a new brand of tobacco…
I said I was bad…
To feed my soul with beauty till I die;
To give my hands a pleasant task to do;
To keep my heart forever filled anew
With dreams and wonders which the days supply;
To love all conscious living, and thereby
Respect the brute who renders up its due,
And know the world as planned is good and true-
And thus -because there chanced to be an I!
This is my life since things are as they are:
One half akin to flowers and the grass:
The rest a law unto the changeless star.
And I believe when I shall come to pass
Within the Door His hand shall hold ajar
I’ll leave no echoing whisper of Alas!
Today’s poem is in the public domain.
To clasp hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.Karl Barth
Now as the year turns toward its darkness
the car is packed, and time come to start
driving west. We have lived here
for many years and been more or less content;
now we are going away. That is how
things happen, and how into new places,
among other people, we shall carry
our lives with their peculiar memories
both happy and unhappy but either way
touched with a strange tonality
of what is gone but inalienable, the clear
and level light of a late afternoon
out on the terrace, looking to the mountains,
drinking with friends. Voices and laughter
lifted in still air, in a light
that seemed to paralyze time.
We have had kindness here, and some
unkindness; now we are going on.
Though we are young enough still
And militant enough to be resolved,
Keeping our faces to the front, there is
A moment, after saying all farewells,
when we taste the dry and bitter dust
of everything that we have said and done
for many years, and our mouths are dumb,
and the easy tears will not do. Soon
the north wind will shake the leaves,
the leaves will fall. It may be
never again that we shall see them,
the strangers who stand on the steps,
smiling and waving, before the screen doors
of their suddenly forbidden houses.
"Going Away" by Howard Nemerov, from New Poems. © University of Chicago Press, 1981.
From — “The Writers’ Almanac”