Even the word surrender
suggests some agency,
but perhaps
what is asked of us
is zero. Perhaps
we are like the seed
of the lodgepole pine
that opens through
no effort of its own.
It needs the heat
of a wildfire blaze.
Then the seed is released
into the very blackened,
desolate world
that seemed hellbent
on destroying it,
but it is the carbon-rich
soil left by the fire
that feeds the seed
and helps the tree grow.
No surrender.
No effort.
Who could ask
for the fire?
The seed did not.
It did nothing at all.
And now, the pine,
how green, how tall.
This metaphor covers so much ground. And how often are we later grateful for the fire we never asked for, would never ask for again?
I think about this. Grateful for the fire? That might be asking too much of me. But I can be grateful for what came of it. I think of this poem snippet from Gregory Orr… “Not to make loss beautiful, but to make loss the place where beauty starts. Where the heart understands for the first time the nature of its journey.”
Such a powerful metaphor and reality… raw and elegant, this natural paradox so unencumbered by questions of “why?” and “how?”
Meanwhile, and being unasked notwithstanding, we humans sift through the rubble and ash searching for meaning, and hearts feeling sorrow are left with the exquisite burden of finding a response.
This poem brought to mind the beautiful new Coventry Cathedral — a living monument dedicated to peace and reconciliation. It stands adjacent to the blackened shell of the old cathedral, destroyed in the firestorm of enemy bombers one night in November 1940. Inscribed inside its charred remains is this paradox: “To the Glory of God, this Cathedral burnt.” How painful, beautiful and true. And how so we need people who have endured the crucible of loss to help us make meaning of our losses, to help show us a way. We’re all asking questions, and what a blessing this beautiful response you offered us today! What a blessing the strong heart who shaped it. Thank you, Rosemerry.
What an amazing living monument. Wow. And “painful, beautiful and true” so often go together, a divine braid. Thank you for your thoughtful words here, Tom, for your weaving of ideas and feelings
Yes, a place where beauty can start, as you have shown us with so much grace. thank you, again. xoxo
and more beauty, and more beauty … how it is a part of us that emerges as if on its own