(By guest poet Leah Shrifter, a previously written poem revisited January 29, 2021. Image from here.)
Depths
Echoes,
a forgotten life
clings to the black hollow
within the fallen tree
ravished by wildfires.
Ignored
despair yields to
(nothing else to do but)
hope,
persist
through an empty
tunneled universe.
Somewhere
there could be sun.
Maybe I am
(Wendy Cabell, published in Paranormal Whispers, edited by Ruchi Acharya, Wingless Dreamer Publisher, 2022. From January 30, 2021, feast day of Our Lady of the Rose, Saint Bathilde (above) and Saint Alegunde. Also the Shabbat of Song, as well as being just a couple days after the first full moon of 2021. Image from here.)
Upon Awakening
(imagined letter, in response to a dream)
Bonnie: A Scottish name meaning beauty, rooted in the Latin meaning, of goodness.
January 28, 2021
My Dear Child,
I wonder if you find it strange, my coming to you in these dreams. But there's much to say. And I think you know by now that humans aren't the only ones who can love. Or can see. And I can still see you, your little femur snapped right in two, like a matchstick. All those months not able to walk. It'd only been a year and a half since you came. Born is the word, that's right. I thought, I bet she'd like a pony to ride around on. Collie shamallie, I can be a pony too when I've a mind to be. And child, you should have seen it, your little face softening, eyes brightening. For those moments I could make you forget the pain. And those moments too when your hand reached out, stroked my fur. Or held on for dear life to the softness, the warmth there. And being up here like I am now, I just had to come and tell you. That this is what God is like. This love, this warmth, this carrying. He had such the smile when I told Him about the pony rides. And when I told Him about standing guard at your bedside. Even how I used to chew the mail to shreds, just to make sure it was all nice and safe. He let flow the most musical laugh just then, and kissed my head. "Well done, good and faithful servant, couldn't have done it better Myself ", He said. And a God like that, you know He's good, and He's love, and He's warmth. Guess Way, Truth, and Life is how the Book puts it.
So I just had to come, to tell you. That when you think of God, think of me. Of how it felt, feels, to be carried, by a pony that never shirks under the pain of the weight. Whose eyes are all about seeing how to make you smile somehow. Whose Apple of His Eye you are. Who's there with soft, and warmth, and love that your hands can hold somehow if you look. Who stands guard, even when you're asleep and don't see. Or Who does things that look just plum crazy till one day you actually see. And then know, just how much you are treasured.
So that's why I came. Maybe will again, keep the dream journal handy. But if not, I'll still be standing guard. Even when your soul sleeps, and does not see.
Love,
Bonnie
*From combined prompts: Dream occurred during a nap which had followed Naa Akua's Quarantine Write-in class (via Hugo House, Seattle) with some writing prompts around remembering one's ancestors and impactors, January 28, 2021. Also prompt to explore one's sense of who God is, from Sister Monika's Silent Retreat With Art (Saint Placid Priory, Lacey, WA), January 29-31, 2021; as well as the nudge to both companion, and reframe, our trauma, via current Abbey of the Arts A Midwinter God course. I drew upon this powerful dream had had January 28. Idea of beginning imagined letters with “My Dear Child” is from Kayleen Asbo’s recent classes (Wisdom of the Heart (via Bishop's Ranch, Healdsburg, CA) December 20, 2020, and The Way of The Hermit (via Abbey of the Arts), January 24, 2021).
(Guest poet Dan Stein (his webpage here) shares a previously written poem revisited January 28, 2021. Image from here.)
The Golden String
I give you the end of a golden string
Only wind it into a ball.
It will lead you in at Heaven’s Gate
Built in Jerusalem’s wall.
-William Blake
Here is a bead.
Tie it to the end of the golden string
and gently reel in the world.
Any bead will do
but only your hand.
That’s why it was placed so near to you.
If you get lost,
start at the end;
work backwards.
Be un-industrious.
The string rolls up
with or without your effort.
Finally, dear one, remember:
Once the bead is on the string,
please don’t let go.
(Wendy Cabell, January 24, 2021, feast day of Our Lady of Peace (Fatima), Our Lady of Damascus, Our Lady of Tears, Saint Francis de Sales, Blessed Paula Gambara Costa, Saint Xenia of Rome, and Saint Xenia of St Petersburg. Image from here.)
Held, ie Healed
(imagined letter from Saint Julian of Norwich)
January 24, 2021
My Dear Child,
(Wendy Cabell, January 24, 2021, feast day of Our Lady of Damascus, Our Lady of Tears, Blessed Xenia of St Petersburg (above), Saint Xenia of Rome, Saint Francis de Sales, and Saint Paula Gambara Costa. Image from here.)
Threadbare
(after William Stafford, rural Oregon, post covid)
Threadbare is best. A few
tugs to weave together what I can
carry. Which isn't much anymore, so
I'll keep the cats, dogs, pet rocks.
The shifting tones of sky. And
tones of voice melodic. And birds
at window, just outside. And rain
upon the roof. And I'll tuck them
into my suitcase, to unravel. To
follow now, as breadcrumbs,
to Home.
*From prompt: Listen to William Stafford's "The Golden Thread", and picture a spiral thread in own life, holds notecards of memories, gather only some most want to keep. From Tobias Wray's Poetry as Meditation class (via Monastery of Saint Gertrude, Cottonwood, Idaho). January 24, 2021.)
(Wendy Cabell, a previously written poem, revisited January 24, 2021, feast day of Our Lady of Damascus, Our Lady of Tears, Saint Francis de Sales (above), Blessed Paula Gambara Costa, Saint Xenia of Rome, and Blessed Xenia of St Petersburg.)
By Kindly Light
(through the Hours)
Lead, Kindly Light…
Keep Thou my feet;
I do not ask to see the distant scene;
one step enough for me.
–Saint John Henry Newman
1. Lauds (morning prayer)
They say voices shape a place.
His voice carries in the morning.
No matter the sleepless night or
frantic dream, voice of prayer
now. Anchor. He's
at the benediction:*
We thank you, O Lord,
for bringing us to this day in safety.
Take us by the hand today on Your Good Red Road.
Help us to treat this day with reverence and holiness.
And bless us, O Lord, through the prayers of
Your Saints. Amen.
2. Vespers (evening prayer)
Voice inside now, sun's waning. Day's
mulling. The waters have smoothed a
stone. What was it he said?
Saint Francis de Sales. Something about the
between. God's everywhere. Yet simpler, vaster.
So must look between. He is both our
deepest longing and hard reality. But He'll
show you deeper, where they meet. Between.**
Where the medicine lies. Where didn't look.
Where regret’s a jagged
edge. For that road turned from, Yours.
Road so pure, so gentle, I thought they'd
never want me. And You Lord, so
pure, so gentle, I thought could You
forgive me. But I'm asking. And for that
road again too. If only,
O Lord, would You
show me now?
3. Compline (night prayer)
His voice again, softer at night. Untier
of knots. Evening prayer, he's
at the benediction now:
Lord, watch over us as we sleep.
May Your angels surround and protect us.
May we dream of Your Holiness, and
Of Your Holy Name.
And may we be allowed to reach
another day in safety, to praise
Your Holy Name. Amen.
4. Matins (prayer between night and morning)
Voice inside again.
They say you can pray without ceasing.
Even in sleep.
I sleep but my heart
waketh.***
When the body waketh too, listens,
you can feel the lay of the land. It's the
nature of the between.
Between night and day regroup, repair. Where
the jagged edge, the jump, the scatter,
glare. There the stranger's voice. Pray for
me when stuck here. And I'll pray for
you. Because our only hope is the Shepard.
Know His voice but it gets buried. So to
spindle, to unravel. Where it last
quivered was it in a verse?
A kindness perhaps?
These small stones, must be in here
somewhere. To hold, to turn, over
and over. The ones for rebuilding the Wall.
The ones because they sing. And voices
they say shape a place. And the
place between, there
sounds can narrow
to a single note.
Deepest quiet, never silent.
And tomorrow, God willing, will
dawn another day.
Amen.
*The Hours are an ancient tradition of praying throughout one’s day/night. The benedictions here, at Lauds and Compline, were prayed out loud by Joseph for us during the High Holidays some years ago. His benedictions are formed spontaneously, vary.
**See theme II (in the introduction) of Frances de Sales, Jane de Chantal: Letters of Spiritual Direction. Paulist Press, New Jersey, 1988.
*** Song of Solomon (Canticles) 5:2
(Wendy Cabell, January 21, 2021, feast day of the above Saint Meinrad, special patron of hospitality, and of Saint Agnes of Rome and others; and of the Comfort Icon of the Mother of God.)
Hospitable
1. At Home
Floors clean,
and windows clear
and air a pleasing flow.
Incense sparks,
candles glow,
things now in
neat little rows.
And less of it.
Much less of it.
Reality check,
Much to do.
But
it's coming,
I can feel it,
Inauguration of home.
2. At Table
Over here, Flo. Yeah, I like this table too. Careful, the tea's pretty hot. Oh, well that makes sense. That's why your name is Flo. It's what you need. Well, I've about had it with this house mess too. I'm serious Flo, you have an ally here! Noooo, I can't just throw ~everything ~ away. And I need to go through it first. I know, I know, I want to scream too. And have. [Laughing now,] you think I haven't had that fire fantasy too? Thanks for the offer Flo. Really. But we don't have home insurance or anything, remember. We'd be in a bad way. Well, couldn't we start with water instead of fire? Wouldn't cleaning help? Even a little? I'll hand you the matches, I promise, light all the candles you want.
But dear, could you stand right beside me as we sort this stuff? Ready to go with the flow?
*From prompt: What would like to inaugurate in own life this new year; and sitting down at table with one's anger, to chat with as with a friend; from Seattle's Hugo House Quarantine Write-in with Naa Akua, January 21, 2021; and by encouragement from the women's retreat group at Saint Mary's Catholic Church (Tulsa, Oklahoma) to pay special attention to the Saint of the Day this next week.
A rare Keep the Memories, Lose the Stuff interactive zoom workshop is going on this weekend . M inimalist couple Zoe Kim ( Raising Simp...
