Mysticism and Spirituality Circle
A site to share inspirational poetry, readings, and practices to support our sangha of spiritual seekers on their paths.
Once again our beloved poets remind us how to carry on in the midst of confusion and grieving. “The impeded stream is the one that sings.”
Our Real Work
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
Copyright ©1983 by Wendell Berry, from Standing by Words.
Our beloved NextGen Sufis sent out this awesome and beautiful video of a new song by Sophya Dhyana from Colombia. She gave me permission to share it here. Please enjoy. Click here to watch it.
Here are the lyrics:
Spanish:
Renace la fuerza desde bien adentro del fondo de la tierra , yo invoco a mis ancestros
Renace la fuerza desde bien adentro del fondo de la tierra , yo invoco a mis ancestras
Gira, crece , sube en espiral El fuego de mis venas transforma lo irreal
Gira, crece , sube en espiral El fuego de mis venas transforma lo irreal
Cura , sana , Cura , sana y fluye.
English:
The strength is reborn from the inside, From the deep of the earth I invoke my ancestors
It spins, it grows, it turns in spirals The fire of my veins transforms what’s unreal.
Heal, heal, heal, heal and flow.
My friend Mirabai posted this today and it felt like a good companion and antidote to the feelings expressed in my last poetry. This poetry was inspired by her friend Andrew Harvey, in a book she did many years ago in collaboration with her dear friend and renowned iconographer, Fr. Bill McNichols, Mother of God Similar to Fire.
MOTHER OF GOD, SHE WHO HEARS THE CRIES OF THE WORLD
Mother of Mercy,
the cries of the world keep me awake at night.
I rise from my bed, but I cannot locate the source of the wailing.
It is everywhere, Mother, coming from all directions,
and my heart is shattered by the sheer intensity of suffering.
You of boundless compassion,
expand my heart so that I can contain the pain.
Focus my mind so that I can arrive at viable solutions,
and energize my body so that I can engage in effective action.
Give me the courage to follow the crumbs of heartbreak
all the way home to the place where I can be of real service.
Let me dip my fingers into the dew of your compassion
and scatter it now over the fevered brow of this world.
(Mirabai Starr)
These times are deeply challenging and I know that I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by the greed and blindness and pain and death that seems so persistent and unending.
Out of these feelings, this poetry arose. Yet in the end, I do still remember that I am connected to the soul of the earth and the cosmos that was never born and never dies. And though I consent to hold and experience the despair and suffering, I am also blessed with each breath and each scent of blossoms, each cuddle of baby goats and each seed pressed into rich damp soil.
************************
How do we sing the end
Of this precious
Pulsing planet?
How do we dance this fading
Fragile future?
How do we pray these delusive
Desperate desires???
How do we cry our wounded
Wild weeping?
How do we sing
With trembling chins?
How do we dance
When our knees grow weak?
How do we pray
When all seems lost?
How even do we cry
When tears drown our hearts?
I simply
Do not know.
Maybe…
Our songs are
Screams, growls, howls
Or a deep humming surrender
Like the rumble of earthquakes in the roiling earth.
Our dance is
Writhing, twisting, lurching
Or a bent broken persistence
Like a deep-rooted oak tree in a raging hurricane.
Our prayers are
Embattled, beseeching, imploring
Or a humbled prostration
Like the corpses of the forest after the overwhelming volcano.
And our tears…
We weep and drool
A million billion
hot salt tears
Into the frigid, warming oceans,
Where they are held,
absorbed,
And lifted
into radiant, pregnant, silver clouds.
Like our pulsing
Fragile
Desperate
Wild
Ever-present
Everlasting
Never dying
Soul.
To fall
and rise
again.
Without end.
Amen.
Maybe.