Tag Archives: poetry

Garden Charm

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image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint,
Sweetest of herbs in my garden close,
Gracing the morning with their mingled scent,
Lavender, rosemary,marjoram, mint.

Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint,
Holiness, purity, safety and peace,
Comfort, remembrance, healing, content,
Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint.

Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint,
Happiness, respite from sorrow, heart’s ease,
Brightness and deep breath and friendly intent,
Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint.

Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint,
Sweetest of herbs in my garden close,
Gracing the morning with their mingled scent,
Lavender, rosemary, marjoram, mint.

~ Rebekah Choat

Good Night Moon

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image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

The shy moon
slips through the clouds to
whisper good night.

~ Rebekah Choat

 

I’m participating in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). Today is the first day I’ve really followed the prompt provided – to write a lune, a sort of simplified haiku counting words 3/5/3 instead of syllables 5/7/5.

My heart is like a swinging door

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My heart is like a swinging door
that fronts on a well-traveled street.
My heart is like a wooden floor
that bears the marks of many feet.
My heart is like a front porch step
where friends may gather as they will.
My heart is all of these, and yet
there is another chamber still.

Build me a courtyard hidden deep;
plant it with herbs and flowers fair.
Set unicorns to guard the keep;
summon a griffin to mind the stair.
Lay seven spells upon the gate;
veil it, that only one may see.
When last he comes for whom I wait,
then let my love come in to me.

~ Rebekah Choat

Lodged

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image by Rebekah Choat

image copyright Rebekah Choat

The rain to the wind said,
“You push and I’ll pelt.”
They so smote the garden bed
that the flowers actually knelt,
and lay lodged — though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.

~ Robert Frost

We Stand to Prayer

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image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

The splendour of Nirvana is not ours,
We have no middle eye, no mystic wings,
And our brief visions take us unawares.
We stand to prayer as rows of earthen jars
Whose dark mouths open onto hidden things:
A secret kingdom where the poor are kings.

Here is an image of that inner place,
The quiet mountain country of the soul
With silver pools where lions drink their fill
And the pale unicorns lie down in peace.
Here is an emblem of the hidden grace
Beneath the flux and turmoil of what happens,
A quiet kingdom where the silence deepens,
Whose heart is hallowed by the Prince of Peace.

~ Malcolm Guite

God speaks to each of us

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image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you:  beauty and terror.
Just keep going.  No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

When I Am Among the Trees

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image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

When I Am Among the Trees
by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”