The Soul Work of Poetry

Celebrating National Poetry Month

For National Poetry Month, you could do no better than to find any book by Mary Oliver. On this the last day of National Poetry month, here is an essay from The Tennessean, by Ray Waddel:

Poetry provides ancient, unfettered spiritual solace

When poet Mary Oliver comes out with a new book, I stop and take a look, not only because her poems are often rewarding but because her popularity says something about today’s shifting state of religion.

That is, I know people who read Oliver and other poets for spiritual solace they don’t quite find in church.

In her new book of poems, “A Thousand Mornings,” Oliver hears prayer in a wren’s song. She dreams of spinning like a Sufi dancer. She finds God everywhere.

In an earlier book, “Swan,” she says:

Inside the river there is an unfinishable story

and you are somewhere in it …

Her words look mortality in the eye. They find wisdom in the experience of aging. They urge the reader to claim a rightful measure of joy. They do all this without reference to creedal doctrine. I know people who want to honor the religious quest but not the unsolicited professionalism of the pulpit. They’d rather read poetry...

To read the rest of Waddel’s essay, go here.

To hear an interview with poet Mary Oliver, go here.

Monday Music: Everybody Knows (Leonard Cohen)

                "Everybody knows the deal is rotten

                Old black Joe’s still pickin' cotton

                For your ribbons and bows

                And everybody knows."

The best version of "Everybody Knows" that I've heard is from a live performance in London. I was dismayed to see that the video of that performance has been removed from You Tube. I was able to find the same video on the Chinese version of You Tube, Youku, but then I noticed difficulties in playback -- the video kept freezing up. Fortunately, I found the video yet again, this time with a server in Turkey. Watch it today, it may be gone tomorrow! (We may have to keep bouncing around the globe to keep Cohen online!)

Everybody Knows

By Leonard Cohen

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded

Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed

Everybody knows that the war is over

Everybody knows the good guys lost

Everybody knows the fight was fixed

The poor stay poor, the rich get rich

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking

Everybody knows that the captain lied

Everybody got this broken feeling

Like their father or their dog just died

Everybody talking to their pockets

Everybody wants a box of chocolates

And a long stem rose

Everybody knows

Everybody knows that you love me baby

Everybody knows that you really do

Everybody knows that you've been faithful

Ah give or take a night or two

Everybody knows you've been discreet

But there were so many people you just had to meet

Without your clothes

And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

And everybody knows that it's now or never

Everybody knows that it's me or you

And everybody knows that you live forever

Ah when you've done a line or two

Everybody knows the deal is rotten

Old black Joe’s still pickin' cotton

For your ribbons and bows

And everybody knows

And everybody knows that the plague is coming

Everybody knows that it's moving fast

Everybody knows that the naked man and woman

Are just a shining artifact of the past

Everybody knows the scene is dead

But there's gonna be a meter on your bed

That will disclose

What everybody knows

And everybody knows that you're in trouble

Everybody knows what you've been through

From the bloody cross on top of Calvary

To the beach of Malibu

Everybody knows it's coming apart

Take one last look at this sacred heart

Before it blows

And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

Oh everybody knows, everybody knows

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

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New Poem: The Incense Rises and Gathers

Celebrating National Poetry Month

I went back to my notebook this week. I mentioned previously that I have a notebook in which I will jot down ideas to come back to later. Usually it's an idea for a poem, sometimes it's an idea for an essay.  I’ve been using National Poetry Month as an impetus to go back to those notes and work on those ideas that have been lying dormant on the page.  I clearly remember the Sunday almost a year ago when I came home and wrote “The incense rises and gathers” at the top of the page. My project this week has been to fill out the rest of the page, using that one phrase as the launching point, attempting to capture what I felt on that day.

The Incense Rises and Gathers

There comes a time

When the heart is drawn

To that sacred space

Where all thoughts and pretensions

Fall away like yesterday’s garments.

To a place made sacred

By the gathering of pilgrims over time

Who come with purpose and by habit

Bringing their notions and desires.

Some come with ideas,

Some come with agendas,

But the space is made holy

By the unadorned longing

Of many souls

On their separate journeys.

Their paths converge

Into sacred space.

Candles, bells,

Hymns and ritual words

Mark the paths of past souls.

Yet in that sacred moment

Even these trappings fall away.

The incense rises and gathers

Forming a misty tier –

Suspended in the moment

Yet constantly moving and changing.

In that moment

The sacred space unfolds.

No sound

No thought

No movement

Only the incense rising and gathering.

A brief rest from all endeavor

Welcoming the soul,

Giving meaning to the music,
Giving purpose to the work that follows.

In a brief moment of quiet

With all souls gathered  

The sacred space opens,

Potent as that rest in Handel’s Messiah.

A silent moment before the Hallelujah.

                               ~ Charles Kinnaird

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