Soul Mates

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words."         -Robert Frost

"Love Song" by Rainer Maria Rilke

How shall I hold on to my soul, so that
it does not touch yours? How shall I lift
it gently up over you on to other things?
I would so very much like to tuck it away
among long lost objects in the dark
in some quiet unknown place, somewhere
which remains motionless when your depths resound.
And yet everything which touches us, you and me,
takes us together like a single bow,
drawing out from two strings but one voice.
On which instrument are we strung?
And which violinist holds us in the hand?
O sweetest of songs.

"A poem begins with a lump in the throat." -Robert Frost

To Love for a Lifetime Takes Talent

I found this poem that I really like on The Writer's Almanac.  But I'm not a fan of its title, so I will not post it.  If you would like to find out what it is please follow the "Poem by Mary Mackey" link.


Poem by Mary Mackey


It's easy to love
through a cold spring
when the poles
of the willows
turn green
pollen falls like
a yellow curtain
and the scent of
Paper Whites
clots
the air

but to love for a lifetime
takes talent

you have to mix yourself
with the strange
beauty of someone
else
wake each morning
for 72,000
mornings in
a row so
breathed and
bound and
tangled
that you can hardly
sort out
your arms
and
legs

you have to
find forgiveness
in everything
even ink stains
and broken
cups

you have to be willing to move through
life
together
the way the long
grasses move
in a field
when you careen
blindly toward
the other
side

there's never going to be anything
straight or predictable
about your path
except the
flattening
and the springing
back

you just go on walking for years
hand in hand
waist deep in the weeds
bent slightly forward
like two question
marks
and all the while it

burns
my dear
it burns beautifully above
you
and goes on
burning
like a relentless
sun

Peace, Love and Happiness

"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."  -Mother Teresa

This has been a fantastic weekend so far, and my heart is "full-up" with joy and peace.  I think it has been so good because I spent it in community with others and I've successfully stepped outside my comfort zone.


On Friday afternoon, I left school right after my last class to babysit four super fun kids.  We planned on making it to the park, and even fit all four bikes into my trunk, but the rain started coming down as soon as we pulled into the parking lot.  Bummer!  At least we had free Wendy's frosty passes and Disney music for the ride.  Once home and frosty-fed, we did several rounds of hide-and-seek, tent/fort-building, Go Fish!, piggy-back riding, jumping/flying time and then settled in for "Toby Tyler" (super sweet old-time Disney movie).  Love it.  Maybe not the most "relaxing" Friday afternoon because it was go-go-go for most of the time, but it was still very peaceful because I got to spend time with such a beautiful family.  Joy!


Saturday (today) I did my grocery shopping, baked cookies, did some law reading, ate dinner with two lovely friends and went to a "Girls' Wine, Cheese and Dessert" night (hence, the cookie baking) hosted by some girls in my class.  It was quite wonderful!  I do not attend too many law school functions because I've either made prior commitments or don't feel comfortable with the expected atmosphere.  This was really nice though -- Good conversation and girl hang-out time.  It is wonderful to be in the same city for law school as I was for undergrad because I have so many undergrad friends here... but I need to branch out some more and get to know my law school classmates better.  This was perfect.  I was so glad to be invited!


Tomorrow will consist of a lot of homework, but that's okay.  I am a student, right?


On a slightly unrelated note I discovered this poem, and I would like to share it with you.  This weekend has been filled with a lot of quiet, little joys that have calmed my heart into a very happy state.  I have, however, known what it is to live with a broken heart, but I think the last lines of the poem are a good reminder for the sorrowful times and the joyful times.  As bad or as good things get here, they will only be perfect once we bid adieu.


"In a Cafe" by Gary Johnson
When Love is lost, the laughter's good and
gone,
The sun sinks down, the heavy fog rolls in,
Nothing is left to say and you know that no
good
Will ever come of this,
Life will never again be miraculous.
Tall dark woman in the café, I see
How the tears glitter in your blue eyes.
You drink black coffee for bravery
And weep onto the front page of the Times.
I had a love once too who now is gone, is
gone, she's gone. The waves roll along
The coast, the sweet summer rain blows in.
      If I knew you, I'd sit by your side and
sing:
      This world is not our home, we're only
passing through.


Now for a book or movie in bed.


"Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree."  -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Modern Culture

"At the Berkeley Free Speech Cafe"
by Thomas R. Moore


The students are seated,
one to a table,
at tables for two,
ears wired,
laptops humming,
cell phones buzzing,
fingers texting,
iPods thumping,
toes drumming,
email flashing,
lattés cooling,
textbooks open,
reading for an exam
in Issues in Contemporary Culture 102.


Such a simple, yet biting poem about our modern day priorities.  And I think I love the poet because his name is similar to that of St. Thomas More, the lawyer-saint.

Tea and Books

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me."                     -C.S. Lewis


It's a chilly Sunday afternoon, and I am sitting at my desk with steaming hot mint green tea in my roommate's pretty "Le Pear, Produit de France" mug and leftover pizza on a stark white plate.  There must be some romance in that, and if there is, I'm sure the poets will find it.  I write short stories.


The real issue is my reading homework and legal writing assignment and the many ways to avoid them.  So far, I have watched a movie (One Night with the King, the Hollywood-ized story of Queen Ester), spent too much time on Facebook, revised an old short story to give it a new spin, and heated up my tea and pizza.  Of course, my killer sore throat, hacking cough and inability to breathe are contributing factors to my unmotivated behavior.  And -- contrary to friendly advice -- the copious amount of Vitamin C I have taken over the past couple days has not yet worked its magic.


I would, however, like to post one of my favorite poems for you.  (I never said I do not read poetry.)  It is simple and beautiful, though I may not agree with all of the author's politics.


"The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


Now, I think, I will start a load of laundry.

A New Thing

"Remember not the former things,
       nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I am doing a new thing;
       now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
       and rivers in the desert."
-Isaiah 43:18-19

Beautiful poetry from Scripture.

This is one of my favorite passages (I even named my blog after it) because of its focus on renewal.  Every moment is new--every moment is an opportunity to begin again and again and again.

As Macbeth says, "What's done is done."

So, let's go forward.

Here is to another week!  May I live every minute of it.