Sacred Connections: Poetry
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other,
doesn't make any sense.
by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
This poem has kept echoing in me the last couple of days as the conflicts and struggles in our world and in our own lives continue. Many of us are just feeling worn down with Covid-19 and the on-going difficulties and dissension on so many fronts. If we’ve held out hope connected with a date, or an event by which everything would feel calmer or more manageable, we’ve probably had to accept that disappointment too. Rumi wrote, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” Don’t we all long for such a field of peace, and calm, a place where we might just savor being.
Simply reading Rumi’s poem helps take me there, to that possibility. Earlier this week, CNN posted an opinion piece written by Tess Taylor, and while it was about a political figure, it was also about poetry. She wrote, “Poems can help us see the spark of beauty in ourselves and one another in an often ugly world. People read poems because poems make them feel richer, more human, and more alive inside. They also read poems because poems can help them feel more connected to their own quirky, messy human lives.” I had started that day inspired by a poem by David Whyte from his book, Essentials, and immediately realized how much Taylor’s words resonated with me.
Poems can help us deepen our understanding of faith, of Spirit, of our relationship with the Divine. Charlie Brumbaugh once read The Avowal by Denise Levertov as a closing to one of his sermons. After hearing it, I had to read it, and then read it again. I have since included it in one of my own sermons because it continues to speak so deeply to me. And every time I read this poem, it also brings to mind Charlie and his beautiful ministry in this place.
As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit's deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.
Poems can also offer us words of encouragement, remind us that we’re not alone in our dilemmas or doubts, that others have traversed rocky times and made it through. Wendell Berry’s poems are a frequent source of grounding and comfort for me. His poem The Sycamore speaks of weathering the experiences of our lives. His shorter poem below is my “go to” in times of unknowing.
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
In these times when many of us are at home more, or seeking relief from the latest news, or simply in need of rest, might poetry be a pathway for renewal? Maybe we still recall the poem we had to memorize in elementary school. How might it speak to us now? Maybe there are poems that touch our hearts, might we start or end our days by reading one? Might we learn one by heart? Are there poems we associate with someone we love? Might we read them as we treasure a specific memory? Might we discover new poetic voices that speak to us in these times of our lives?
Maybe it’s not a poem, but a verse from scripture, or the line of a hymn or favorite song. What words or rhythms might bring us comfort or joy, might invite more spring in our steps, smiles on our masked faces, moments of simple delight to start our day?
And sometimes it’s not someone else’s words we need to hear. Sometimes we may need to write our own. Mary Oliver wrote a beautiful poem titled Praying, but her encouragement might hold for any writing we might do to center ourselves, be it in prayer or other moments in our lives.
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but a doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Even in these times when life may seem more confining, more limiting we are still invited to explore greater and more hospitable possibilities. There is a “doorway”. “There is a field…” Let us see who we might yet meet.
