Posted March 31, 2021 in News Articles
This month for Mindful Poetry Moments we gathered to listen and contemplate Molly McCully Brown's poem "Transubstantiation". Rana Dotson, of The Well's Three Sisters Podcast, led our opening meditation. And, Troy Bronsink, Executive Director of The Hive, led the reading and response. (If you'd like to read the full transcript, that can be found here.)
Additionally, check out these On Being with Krista Tippett episodes to learn more about John O'Donohue and Howard Thurman, who Troy quoted during the poem discussion.
John O'Donohue, The Inner Landscape of Beauty
Rev. Otis Moss III, The Sound of the Genuine: Traversing 2020 with 'the Mystic of the Movement' Howard Thurman
by Lauren Sharpe
The smell of the cedarwood shake
on the sides of the fresh house,
up the hill and around the curve
ALL THIS COULD BE YOURS
if you’re willing. The rain
is more beautiful here, the backdrop
made of cedarwood and birdsong.
The only real danger is the s-curve
when you’re walking the road alone.
All I want is to brush the tangles from my daughters’
hair while they sit perfectly still
fireside crackling. They toss old things
into the fire to burn, promising me
things will be better from here on out, mama, don’t worry.
I wonder what you call that style of wood siding
it’s wider vertical planks
a narrow line down the middle--
it has a name, almost everything does,
it’s called siding or cedar
but it’s also called
Keep the House from Falling,
Hold Up the Ground,
Give Me Breath,
Hold the Earth Together
by Sam Park
standing at the mirror, my
eyes meet with those of a stranger-
one with dark brown pits turned to
mixed amber and mahogany pools of wonder.
I submerge into bronze abyss,
catching the same wink of a tiger’s eye
that blinks of golden opportunity, balance,
and clarity is caught in the wink
of my oblivious human gaze.
by Dorothy Blake
Standing, surrounded by space.
Space—a new place that calls itself HOME.
What makes ‘here’ different to the last one from 3 years ago, 2 years before that, 4 years before the 2 years, and so on . . .
The numbers hold different names…for sure, but
how does it work?
Picking up stakes, packing together the necessary, selling off the unnecessary,
transplanting our family somewhere new — no, maybe just different.
Opening our hearts to be shaped by the curious—rather than the cynical.
Standing here, surrounded by family. That is home.
by Wendy Cabell
so patient you are.
Hospitality, simplicity, peace.
Work, study, holy leisure. Weave
of rose into lace into room which
awaits. All this time silent. All the better
to cradle, I suppose, this longing, for