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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

 

Stepping Stones
                Susan Heffron Hajec

By the water’s edge, she sheds her shoes
and steps toward the stone path
winding just off shore.

With no turning back I mind, she releases
the safety of ground beneath her feet
and any doubt that holds her back.

Moving forward is what she intends.
Turning the old version of herself into
the new vision of dreams, ripe and ready
through the soil of her new springtime.

Just as the seedling engages with the soil,
sunshine and rain spins its path
to the light of day.

She mixes risk with courage to bring her plant
to bloom in a world hungry for the sweetness
of flowers and green promise of hope.

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The Way to Emmaus

Susan Heffron Hajec 3-31-18

How many times, Lord
have I walked
the road to Emmaus
like your disciples?
Distraught over what
has happened.
Afraid of what lies
before me.
Confused that things
didn’t work out
as I planned.

Many times, I
must confess,
many times.
How can I so
easily forget
it is you, yourself
who told me—
“Behold, I Am
with you always.”

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“Good grief, Charlie Brown,” says Lucy many times over in frustration of their childhood antics.” And now in our world, both adults and children are suddenly shot into a world very unfamiliar to us. The coming of the Corona virus is the only thing that is “sudden” about it. Every day, restrictions, losses, and new rules “of being” flood into our day. If we have not lost any family member or friend by now in the fourth week of its rapid spread, we are the lucky ones. Many have and are losing loved ones that  leave many stranded with isolated good-by’s and inexplicable grief.

As much a many are helping the rest of us with upbeat messages, music, innovative ways of “being together, and the promise, that we will go through this together, and we will win over it together, the population of the grieving is building daily.

This poem posted today I think takes this population under her wings of prayer. This truth that now lives amongst us, when contemplated is both complicated and simple. Amid the living, there is much death. Therefore, also much grief.

I do not believe this poem to be a downer. Contemplative Christine Valters Paintner has crafted a very real part of the remnants left in the wake of Covid-19. Last night, I lay awake deep in the night, praying rosaries for #1 those “at the hour of my death. Amen”, as repeated over and over in the Hail Mary prayer who are in that hour as I prayed. Between the Hail Mary’s, as I slipped the beads through my fingers, I asked Mary and the Mantle of Mary to be so present to give peace to the person dying and to the health care worker closest to the patient, so that a “bond” could exist rather than “aloneness” between them.

And so I also prayed for all health care workers providing the last sense of touch and caring to the dying. What a sacred mission, and with whatever feelings I had during prayer, I just sunk into that reality alone—and left all the outer world (our world) changes and hopes, and losses alone for the moment. It was the dying and their families, and the endless effort of the professional caregivers I put into the sanctuary of my prayers. No, grief, and perhaps even rage, is not to be ignored; it is all around us and through us.

This is an invitation to rest in the space of grieving for all that is being lost right now, before we try to “make meaning” from it all.  Yes we must claim grace and gratitude, but let’s not bypass sorrow.

*In a Dark Time*
Christine Valters Paintner

Do not rush to make meaning.
When you smile and say what purpose
this all serves, you deny grief
a room inside you,
you turn from thousands who cross
into the Great Night alone,
from mourners aching to press
one last time against the warm
flesh of their beloved,
from the wailing that echoes
in the empty room.

When you proclaim who caused this,
I say pause, rest in the dark silence
first before you contort your words
to fill the hollowed out cave,
remember the soil will one day
receive you back too.

Sit where sense has vanished,
control has slipped away,
with futures unravelled,
where every drink tastes bitter
despite our thirst.

When you wish to give a name
to that which haunts us,
you refuse to sit
with the woman who walks
the hospital hallway, hears
the beeping stop again and again,
with the man perched on a bridge
over the rushing river.

Do not let your handful of light
sting the eyes of those
who have bathed in darkness.
—Christine Valters Paintner

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Ode to Amy’s Hiccups

Boo!

 

Ode to Amy’s Hiccups

by Grama
(A Poem for Amy)

How do you stop
a hiccup?
Do you stand
on one foot?
or do you close
one eye and look
at your toe?

Do you hold
your nose and
hop three jumps
to the left and four
to the right?

Do you scream
with all your might
and then whisper
in someone’s ear,
“Please, please don’t
your hear?”

How, just how do
you stop a hiccup.
and then, I knew,
I just knew it was gone.
Just how did that happen
I have not a clue!

 

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Ode to Amy’s Hiccups
by Grama

(A Poem for Amy)
How do you stop
a hiccup?
Do you stand
on one foot?
or do you close
one eye and look
at your toe?
Do you hold
your nose and
hop three jumps
to the left and four
to the right?
Do you scream
with all your might
and then whisper
in someone’s ear,
“Please, please don’t
your hear?”
How, just how do
you stop a hiccup.
and then, I knew,
I just knew it was gone.
Just how did that happen
I have not a clue!

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Secret Things (From Day 17- Archetypes of the Creative – Found Poem
By Susan Heffron Hajec

She holds secret things
holy and alone.
Things of long ago
as she creates anew
on each new sunrise blessing
of a life gifted to her.
Human, yet divine
are the connections she feels.
Lost and found in her
own tiny soul.

Sacred things held dear,
held precious
within a silent yearning…
for what
for what?

Secret yearnings
in grace-filled moments
nearing expression
coming oh so close,
coaxes heart to open wider
breathe deeper.

Those secret things
bubble to the surface
and she is with them
in the sun’s light and warmth
briefly —
then they disappear to the depths
once more
to be awakened again
when enough love is present.

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The Way to Emmaus

Susan Heffron Hajec 3-31-18

How many times, Lord
have I walked
the road to Emmaus
like your disciples?
Distraught over what
has happened.
Afraid of what lies
before me.
Confused that things
didn’t work out
as I planned.

Many times, I
must confess,
many times.
How can I so
easily forget
It is you, yourself
who told me—
“Behold, I Am
with you always.”

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My post today is my most beloved poem of all the poems Joyce Rupp has written. It touches me deeply at the soul level as being the poem of my own birth. Indeed, gathered together am I from history-held mysteries.

These past couple of months, I have been in prayer and healing ministry for so many of my family members and friends suffering from illness and grieving the loss of a loved one — each one “so ordinary, so unique, so simple, so complex”…

Each one given the gift of life and each one exploring the ways to live that as a life of love.

Each of us is surprised into life and each, the blessing of eternity passed on.

I seek out this poem often, to bless myself and the others that I love.

A Star in my Heart is a beautiful read.

 

 

From A Star in my Heart – Joyce Rupp

Revision date: 1/8/2018

gathered together am I
from a history-held mystery,
a bundle of memories am I.

caught from smiles and heartaches
of faces and places past cherished
given in love from the heart of life.

from kisses and love making,
from caring and growing,
from vibrancy and vitality,
the gathered memories
of my own named person
have been gifted into existence.

surprises from seeds and secrets,
gifts from unknown voices and events;
here am I, so ordinary, so unique.
here am I, so simple, so complex
knowing that the seed of my self
has the touch of gathered memories;
gleaned from the ages of another time,
seed and sperm seeking, making known.

a birthed bundle surprised into life,
light filling the center of a new spirit;
the blessing of eternity passed on:
urgency always to seek the face of God,
first gatherer of all good memories.

Joyce Rupp – A Star In My Heart

Lura Media –

 

 

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Butterfly Prayer
Susan Heffron Hajec

In a star-filled Virgin Island sky
Souljourner’s voice
sends out a Divine Spark
of love and gentleness
across the calm blue-green waters.

A living prayer of protection
and passion transforms
the holy monk’s confined walls
to golden vibrations
of worldwide peace.

They seek
the cry of the wolf
and sooth the ancestor’s
pleas of long ago.

 

 

 

 

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