Poetry Corner
The gentle world of poetry is a perfect reflection of the soft, safe space we aim to create at every connection experience. If you’ve been to one of our events, you know we always close with a treasured poem. In another lifetime, we’ll create an entire website devoted to poetry. In the meantime, here are a few of our favourites.
I Am From
by Natasha Zimmerman
I am from frigid six-month winters and the abiding awe of snowfall,
From harvest time suppers in dusty fields
And the clean, clean earth of mud-soaked country roads.
I am from oceans away and here.
I am from America but not this one.
I belong everywhere I’ve ever been.
I am from stacks and stacks of dog-eared books,
From abandoned umbrellas and the golden hour.
I am from poetry and cello music.
From furrowed brows and furrowed fields.
I am from kisses by starlight and broken hearts by daylight.
I am from knowingness and mystery.
I am from the certainness of the sacred.
I am from my grandpa’s galoshes and gentle shoulder squeezes.
I am from the strong hands of my grandmothers.
Made of sterner stuff than me.
I am from big questions and small ones too.
And I am from the loveliest of all human acts.
The soft soul-bow of inhabiting this moment with you.
For Presence
by John O’Donohue
Awaken to the mystery of being here
and enter the quiet immensity of your own presence
Have joy and peace in the temple of your senses.
Receive encouragement when new frontiers beckon.
Respond to the call of your gift and the courage to
follow its path.
Let the flame of anger free you of all falsity.
May warmth of heart keep your presence aflame.
May anxiety never linger about you.
May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of soul.
Take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek
no attention.
Be consoled in the secret symmetry of your soul.
May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven
around the heart of wonder.
Don’t Hesitate
By Mary Oliver
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.
The House of Belonging
By David Whyte
I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that
thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.
But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought
it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,
it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,
it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.
And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,
this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.
This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next
and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,
the tawny
close-grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.
This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.
This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.
There is no house
like the house of belonging.