Homage III – to social consciousness

Pádraig Ó Tuama

your voice the companion to my otherwise silent walks
reciting others’ poems in my ears
offering interpretation and invitation into
new contexts, meanings, shapes, and forms

I’d thought that glorious enough until
I heard your voice recite your words
interpret and invite me into hearing anew
holy scripture and story

your poems a clarion call
to love and justice
to curiosity and compassion
to wondering as I walk
who am I and how am I complicit
in empire’s delusion?

Naomi Shihab Nye

hearing her disembodied voice
coming to you across the plaza in Columbia
telling you of kindness and its peculiar kin
you take the only possessions you have left –
save the clothing on your back –
and with pen and notebook alone
take dictation, writing words that become
iconic for their naked, known truth

too, in Albuquerque’s airport
you hear her call
and with your broken Arabic and wide-open heart
you tend to the distressed grandmother
both of you delayed at the gate
soon a party breaks out
as Arabic cookies and American juice boxes are shared
community made among women
dusted for those hours of waiting
in something far sweeter than powdered sugar

something my heart yearns for
with every poem of yours I read

This is my third and final set of poems written as tribute to poets for National Poetry Month. I “met” Pádraig Ó Tuama last spring walking with Annie and listening to him host the podcast, Poetry Unbound. Becoming a fan, I discovered he was Poet-in-Residence at NYC’s Church of the Heavenly Rest, leading virtual workshops on contemporary interpretation of scripture, guided by his work in social justice and conflict mediation in Ireland. Naomi Shihab Nye came to my attention with her wondrous poem of tending and befriending at the Albuquerque Airport, Gate A-4. Her work often sheds light on the plight of refugees, immigration, cultural conflict, and belonging. Both poets incisively invite me into deepening consciousness of my privilege, complicity, and commitments.

Homage II – to noticing

Mary Oliver

you were the first poet whose words I memorized
your famous question becoming
my mantra
my north star
for realizing mine was
a life wild and precious and
worthy of planning

you said you got saved by poetry and the beauty of the world
that in your later years Rumi became your daily companion
bringing refinement to – what in my eyes are – your already perfect observations
your morning walks with pencil and notebook
pausing to notice and note, your practice
rendering with words the details of God’s creation, your gift
amazement, your holy vow

bentlily (Samantha Reynolds)

yours are words that fit exactly the shape of holes in wounded hearts
you write one a day –
pithy, poignant, piercing –
about your life’s everyday moments
about your husband, children, friends, and jeans
sometimes
less than twenty lines, barely more than twenty words
those are the ones that
take my breath away
urge me to winnow mine to essence
to notice well and
choose what to let be

Today, two more poems to two more poets whose words instruct me in the art of noticing life, and in so doing, make sacred the mundane. Mary Oliver needs no introduction. Vancouver’s Samantha Reynolds, writing under the pen name “bentlily”, began writing a poem a day ten years ago “to find more joy in the tedious rhythm of life as a new mother.” It’s a practice she maintains to this day, delighting us who receive her weekly collection in our inboxes.

Homage I – to sacred inspiration

Konya, Turkey – the school and final resting place of Jalaluddin Rumi

Rumi

eight hundred years ago  
words tumbled from your mouth as you whirled in ecstasy 
caught by the quill of your scribe 
creating images read the world over in a future unforeseen  
a reed burned hollow yearning for your breath 
a ground knelt upon and kissed in hundreds of ways 
a house guest greeted warmly as holy visitor  

your own blazing love and searching,
afire with your Beloved’s glory  
now the flame that lights  
now the song that dances  
me home  

Christine Valters Paintner

a modern monk moored in a Celtic landscape 
contemplation and creativity your stock in trade 
prayer and painting  
poetry and dance 
song and silence 
evoked by your 
Benedictine vows and 
wide awake discerning eyes 
where illness and grief have polished smooth the cave of your heart 
making space for 
the shimmering of earth, wind, sea, and sky and 
the wisdom of ancients and ancestors 
to tell their stories and shape your words into  
offerings for a holy communion

As April is National Poetry Month, in appreciation and celebration, I have written a poem to each of six poets whose words, for me, inspire, instruct, and illuminate. This week, through the lens of sacred inspiration, I write to Rumi, the founder of the Whirling Dervish community of Sufism and author of several of its sacred texts, and to Christine Valters Painter, poet and abbess of the Abbey of the Arts, a global online meeting space for contemplation and creative expression. In the past year, I’ve participated in several of the Abbey’s retreats and shared here impressions and impacts of their numerous prompts and invitations.