In each of us thrives an inner world
that does not love the light.
An inner world of womb and breath,
the most essential dark
where blood moves and lungs expand,
where neurons fire and cells divide,
where the heart pulses and muscles build,
where all words form, where all thoughts nest,
the secret world of humanness—
the dark we are, the dark we need,
this secret dark we cannot see.
For all its wounds, its rest,
its miraculous repair,
I praise this living dark
we carry everywhere.
Posts Tagged ‘praise’
Dark Praise
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged body, dark, praise on December 4, 2022| 16 Comments »
Three Unlikelihoods
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haikuling, praise on March 26, 2022| 6 Comments »
crushed by rusted weight
stalled by my own brokenness—
still this urge to praise
*
despite cosmic odds
that tend toward vacuum and void,
this pale flower, these buds
*
even in cold darkness
hear the growing rush of snowmelt—
somewhere it is warm
Concurrent
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, nature, praise, snow, wound on December 12, 2020| Leave a Comment »
On a morning
when the snow
falls and drapes
everything in shine,
it is not that I don’t
feel the wounds—
raw and throbbing—
it’s just that it’s
so beautiful,
this tender world,
that I want
to praise it
forever.
The Snow People, Three Days Later
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged praise, snow, snowmen on November 30, 2020| 2 Comments »
Their hats are cockamamie.
One has lost its carrot nose.
Stone buttons and eyes
have long since succumbed
to gravity. But there is
something yet dignified
about the snow people in the yard,
their knobby stick arms raised
as if, in their declining state,
there’s still so much to praise.
Rather to Praise What Is Still, But
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ferocity, praise, self awareness, wind on November 18, 2020| Leave a Comment »
Today when the wind
wrests branches from trees,
cartwheels the watering can
snatches my peace,
I search in me
for a way to praise it,
praise a force strong enough
to rip trees from the earth,
push a ship cross the sea,
and shred what I think I know.
There is in me
a vehement storm
that I have tamed
for fifty years.
Is it any wonder
the wind makes me nervous—
not that I don’t know
how to relate to it,
but oh, because
I do.
The Real Story
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged angel, despair, praise on November 11, 2020| 4 Comments »
Just as I threw my arms up in despair,
it was as if two angels
swooped in beneath them
and held them in place,
kept my arms raised high
so that anyone walking by
might have thought I was praising
the day, praising the air,
praising the clean blue sky,
kept my arms raised until I, too,
was fooled into thinking
I am here to honor
the immeasurable blue,
here to open, to feel the heart
beat wild inside the chest.
Long ago the angels left,
still I am here, hands raised.
*
*
ha! Friends, I just noticed that an anagram for despair is praised.
Morning After
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged election, miracle, praise on November 8, 2020| 6 Comments »
Again the chance to praise
the same room, the same floor,
the same view, the same tea,
the same image in the same mirror,
which today is startlingly not the same.
Again the chance to find the miracle
in the leaves that fall, the miracle
in the morning sun, the miracle
in the willows beside the pond.
Again, the chance to fall in love
with the same sky, the same field,
the same dirt, the same broken world.
Again, the chance to show up
with these same tired arms
and put them to work,
the same work as yesterday,
which is to learn to lift up,
to heal, to carry, to build,
to be in the world, to praise
the same room, the same floor,
the same view, the same tea.
Stubborn Praise
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged futility, praise on February 7, 2020| Leave a Comment »
Praise the futility of song.
—Ruth Schwartz, Versions of Ghalib: Ghazal 1,
And so today I praise
the mango that molders,
how sweet it is the moment just before
it is gone. I praise the shovel
for its valiant attempt
to make a clearing
even as snow continues
to fall. Praise the fire,
though it always goes out
when left untended.
Praise how easily I forget the lessons
I learned yesterday,
how this allows me to learn them again.
Praise the body that rises
and runs, though it knows
it will tire and ache. Praise
the innocent clock
which only does what it
was made to do. And praise
this longing to praise—
how it has never built
a single house nor fed a mouth
nor loaded a train,
but oh, the joy,
the aliveness in praising.
Gratitude List with Eyes Continuously Closing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, praise on December 29, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Easy today to praise the snow
a sparkling settled on all the world,
and easy to praise the oranges
that arrived bringing sunshine
from far away.
Easy to praise the sky as it clears
and easy to praise the wind
as it blows the storm away.
Less easy to praise the moment
between night and dawn
when I would rather be sleeping
than praising.
Less easy to praise the song
that insists on replaying
inside my head.
Less easy still to praise
the sorrow, though
its roots are in great love.
But bless the poem
for offering the chance
to discover praise.
And bless the praise,
for showing up despite
sorrow, despite fear.
Praise the longing
to praise, may it ever
insist on itself, like
grasses that poke
through the snow in the field,
like the sunshine
inside the clementine,
like a poem past midnight
that refuses to let me sleep.
Especially When It Seems Impossible
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, news, poem, poetry, praise on November 14, 2019| 5 Comments »
Try to praise the mutilated world
—Adam Zagajewski
The cratered earth
and the blood stained shirts
and the men with guns
and the hate sharp words
and the sour rooms
that never see sun
and the rashes, the cancers
the blackened lungs
and still, there are paths
in Ohio woods
where upended trees
show elaborate roots
and the water seeps
in the ancient gorge,
and dead leaves fuel
whole dominions of soil
and though beauty
can be hard to reconcile,
worse to ignore it,
worse to look away,
worse in this mutilated world
to pretend we don’t have
ten thousand times ten thousand
reasons to praise.