Author: admin

When Death Comes 

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse 

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox; 

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, 

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? 

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility, 

and I think of each life as a flower, as common 
as a field daisy, and as singular, 

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence, 

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth. 

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. 

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument. 

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

~ Mary Oliver ~ 

(New and Selected Poems, Volume I)

Sunrise 

You can
die for it —
an idea,
or the world. People 

have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound 

to the stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But 

this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought 

of China,
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun 

blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises 

under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name? 

What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it 

whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire. 

~ Mary Oliver ~ 

(New and Selected Poems, Volume I)

Sometimes the most difficult thing to recognize is ourselves in the mirror of those around us, especially in those we find most challenging. This wonderful practice from Fr. Richard Rohr’s blog helps us consider these challenges and find ways to recognize ourselves in the mirrors that surround us.

Practice: Mirroring

Over the past year we’ve covered a lot of ground. We’ve looked for God’s image and likeness in many forms and places, perhaps some that surprised you: the natural world, human bodies and sexuality, poetry (from the Psalms to rap), justice, economics, politics (yes, spirituality includes politics), other faith traditions, even suffering and death.

Where do you find it hardest to recognize the divine image? Will you trust that this person or being is indwelled by God—who is Love? Because of wounding or ego’s resistance, they may not be actively saying “yes” to and growing in Love’s likeness. Yet they still have inherent dignity and are infinitely lovable. It takes practice to see what we’re not accustomed to seeing. I find it helpful to connect with the loving Source within myself and then expand that awareness to others. This is a contemplative practice.

Take some time to rest in God’s presence. Allow God’s loving, compassionate gaze to soften your heart. Notice any sensations in your body, if you feel tension or resistance, warmth or release. Send loving attention to each of those places. If you feel pain or sorrow, know that God is intimately present with suffering. You are not broken or damaged. As James Finley often says, “You are not what has happened to you. Only Love has the final word in who you are.”

Draw upon this Love in yourself. Be filled to overflowing with Love. Gradually turn your gaze outward, picturing people you know and strangers you’ve never met, faces around the world. Imagine Love gazing back at you from their eyes. Return their gazes with Love. God—who is Love—is with and in each of you.

“The only appropriate response is gratefulness.” I love this man’s beautiful and resilient emphasis on remembering gratitude, especially for those of us with privilege. And his emphasis on our responsibility to bless others by “[letting] the gratefulness overflow with blessings to those around [us].”

This seems like such a lovely way to start the new year – with a manifesto to “expect the end of the world” and “laugh”!

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front 

(second half) 

Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias. 
Say that your main crop is the forest 
that you did not plant, 
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. 
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees 
every thousand years. 

Listen to carrion — put your ear 
close, and hear the faint chattering 
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful 
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child? 
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 

Go with your love to the fields. 
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go.
Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction. 
Practice resurrection.

~ Wendell Berry ~ (Collected Poems)