~ Jan Hutchinson
Some of us are privileged, proud and foppish,
others are barefoot, ragged, ruddy.
We’re all fishing
for forgiveness —
that shimmering swimmer
in the current of days.
It is said that forgiveness
does more for the one
who forgives
than for the one forgiven.
Repair your heart.
be part of the light,
not a blank hole
in the bright cloth.
On the path of forgiveness —
with its challenges
and promise,
it doesn’t matter
what you call the light,
just fish for it,
raise it up.
“Each of us has
exactly what is needed
to help repair the world.”
First forgive yourself,
then begin,
ever again begin,
to watch the expanding
circles of forgiveness
ring out from you
around our blue pearl of planet,
as it twirls in its dark setting
of vacuum space and mystery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Limits
~ Daniel A. Harris
Do not ask for them,
words in your mouth like honey:
taste the acrid herb.
Nor may you cry out
you hunger for ease of speech:
digest the constraints; chew.
Not yours to request,
poems of healing or blessing:
you must wait your turn.
Thanks to poet Daniel Harris of Princeton, NJ for allowing his work to be included in the performance. He can be reached at:
E-mail: dah43@comcast.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Said the Deer to the Fox
~ Mindy Dow
this is the weather we met in centuries ago
rain to snow
deep in the thicket of an aspen grove
still amongst swirling winds
evergreenery
fox I know you not
in your village
your promenade
acts of will dreams and horrors
I do know
how you look so directly into my dark eyes
savoring strength
that forested energy of wild
yearning to be held a little longer
if at all
June 13, 1957
~ Mindy Dow
a river stone
speckled with sierra
needle red
sits underwater
smoothing
looking beautiful
what secret lies inside
the bed of your most turbulent river?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Atonement, or:
At-One-Ment
~Ben Friedman
What have we wrought
From the fun that we've sought?
What pains have we bought
From not doing what ought--
To be done in the dark
And the light of the sun
What is right, in God's Sight
As we fight with our fright
And hold tight to our slights
We've denied that we are ONE
We have forgotten that we are all ONE
Instead--
We but run.
And then--
Regret we have run.
Yes, we run from what's main
In our pain we refrain
In disdain we remain
Until the strain's
Buried deep
In the gray of the brain
Like the mark bright and stark
On the forehead of Cain
Refusing release
Ignoring our pain
Storing up torrents
Torrential as rain
Until wisdom is
Imprisoned
Or flushed
Down the
Drain
So then we go
And we hide
Like crouching under old blankets...
In flixed patterns we reside
Acting quite thankless...
Warshipping idols
Ignoring what's sacred...
Until fleeing life's field...
We'll pretend or just...
Fake it.
Then we're just rolling wheels
Too quick to feel
The friction of Earth
To allow a New Birth
Forgetting our worth
In the precious short
Time that IS Life
As its passing
Until we're spilling
Like gushers of oil
Amassing
Straight into oceans
Of conflicting confusion
Until, like the Titanic
We're crashing
Into an icy cold
Fusion
AS--
The media
Bludgeons our brains with
Intrusions
Until we start to just stare
At one another's contusions
And cruelly we laugh
At the oddest of
Protrusions
HOW can we take this?
How can we possibly STILL
Be fighting over creeds, mottos, races
And traces of broken-record relations
Spinning in places??
Forgetting we're ALL just human
Forgetting one another's True Faces..
Until insane we rip up each other's
Sacred spaces...
And unconscious spirit denied
Begins--
To erase us.
Until I can't tell what's really you
And you can't tell what's really me
And we start to believe that this
Is actually how life is supposed to be??
And we start to forget how much better
This could be
IF and only IFwe set our HEARTS
And minds FREE
If we stopped trying so hard
To grab, to hold, and to covet
If we remember the gentle voice
Of that inner sacred--
The Beloved.
Not rising up above her
But in gentle awe
Within our covenant
Not seeking to own her
Or controlling each moment
Just acting with LOVE!
And seeking--
At-One-Ment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The performance could have gone on longer to include another story by Kasiya and a sonnet from Nathan Smith, the poet who read his poem by The Gossips, but the museum was closing at 4pm.
My intention was to end in a big circle in the rotunda with the Four Freedoms, but, even better, we circled up in the main gallery and sang in glorious harmony for three or four minutes. Each person added their own note and we ended with a cheer for Norman Rockwell.
Here's the sonnet by poet Nathan Smith:
it's about a way of seeing things... thought lost
told in legends, embellished over the ages
known equally to idiots and sages
carried over continents and vast
uncharted oceans - it was, although beset
unstoppable as water through a net -
North and South from Center, East and West
it spread like birdsong and rushing waters
was told by parents to their sons and daughters
in every culture, color, creed and cast
inexorable as the spinning of our planet
far reaching as the journey of a comet
appearing everywhere like common dust:
the tale of shaking hands... not the fist
~~ this sonnet was read at an international peace conference at Katmandu
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