Poeming 4

True Sisters

 Perhaps I was born to hold

a hidden power, a sacred intention,

a wound that cannot be healed

for it is the wound itself that

holds the power for healing.

 

Perhaps endurance is a nearly

invisible silver string weaving and holding

everything,

everything in me, together, and often,

often but not always, even with joy.

 

This healing path existed in me from the beginning –

even in the frequent pains of childhood, even

in the small wondering world of adolescence –

there was always pain – but there

was always joy too – and –

o remarkable shift  of truth –

they are sisters! One cannot be

without the other, one

cannot choose without the other’s presence,

why do I have two arms? two legs, two hands,

two feet? And still see most clearly

in the dark?

 

Frog knows. Lizard knows.

 

In their murky depths do I dwell

and rest in occasional peace.

 

Arms of Silence

Silence has approached me and wants to be my friend – not

an obligatory friend –

not a must-do or should-do

but a friend of longing, a friend

of companionship.

 

She fills my body, resting finally

in my heart, leaving my body

tingling with alive joy.

Then I notice that she isn’t

the only inside me – she is outside,

filling the world,

even the whole world. Noisy arisings

have no effect,

do not drive her away.

 

Only the noisiness inside me – ah!

thoughts, fears, angers, despairs –

stinging emotional pain –

these, these make me forget

her constant companionship,

her reassuring presence.

 

Yet these too have their place,

an inner ocean, rising and falling,

Often now

I recall them as reminders,

pushing me, pushing me

into the Arms of Silence.

"Wild Geese" Brenda's edition

thanks to Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese"

 

I am not being good.

 

I am not walking on my knees

through the desert, repenting.

 

I am no longer believing that

I am holding up anyone's world

even my closest relatives.

 

I am no longer helping

in the hope it will save me.

 

I am letting the soft animal of my body

love what it loves

and letting the world go on.

 

I am following the wild geese

watching them heading home

again, leading the way,

 

announcing my place

in the family of things.

I Used to Know (Brenda Peddigrew 24/6/17)

 I Used To Know

 

There was a time I used to know - used to know everything

That I needed, and more besides. Most of it was helpful 

To more people than myself, and they told me so.

I loved to ponder 

How much good I contributed to the world, how 

Satisfied - even justified - that made me feel.

 

Thinking about this now, I can't

Identify the moment it all changed.

I can't tell you the second or the minute - 

Or the month or the day or even the year -

When  everything blurred, when my soul

Shook me loose of such illusion, of such

Certainty and narrow seeing. I can't

Tell you -really -

How I fought with that blurring for years,

Cranky and resistant, thinking I was

controlling the uncontrollable.

 

And I can't tell you, really,

How once or twice the ground 

opened at my feet like a yawn,

and I saw - oh rich boundless darkness - 

I saw with inner eyes - the infinite universe 

Living inside and outside, and how small I was

In it and how little I actually knew and would ever know,

And how knowing that expanded my heart 

to the size of the universe and back again.

 

And how everything - everything - is unfolding only

As it can unfold. And how it must unfold, and how every

Moment holds the whole of time, 

And every present moment is eternity.

 

 

 

 

Just As I am

The white birch groves pull me

as strongly as the most powerful

magnet -

like the family

I always longed for but never really had -

welcoming, understanding,

holding me -

I lean into them and feel myself

embraced, embraced

just as I am,

just as I am.

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Gina | Reply 25.06.2017 13.05

the beautiful image and words...the infinite universe... Thanks, Brenda...
Love,
Gina

Lee Gauthier | Reply 25.06.2017 12.05

What an inspiring image Brenda. The 'under bark' is so perfect and is uncovered as the 'old bark' is removed, piece by piece.

Andrea Kent | Reply 14.02.2017 22.09

Wow. What a descriptive sense of identity!

Annah | Reply 10.02.2017 12.39

Lovely!! nature speaks volumes to me as well.

Sheila | Reply 14.11.2016 08.42

thoughtful and poignant
The birch tree is one of my favorite trees. I find them very fascinating and awe inspiring.
Thanks.

sylvia doyle | Reply 13.11.2016 09.59

Love it! "Just as I am",brought me back to the song, Come As You Are, by Deidre Brown, also sung by Paul Gurr. The tattered and torn bark speaks volumes.

Kay | Reply 12.11.2016 13.31

Always .

Andie | Reply 12.11.2016 13.06

Trees have always done this for me too. Beautifully said.

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