Have you ever written a poem by just sitting down and writing out whatever flows from the back of your mind to your fingers? I sat down to write earlier and did just that. I added line breaks afterwards. Here is my poem:
Winter words fall to the sky
as the summer sun glistens
meaningfully into a solid wall
of weeds and words and
wonderings and wanderings
where are you going
who are you telling
what are you doing
my sun is shining
dark corners dancing
why I cannot say
the stew is mixed
the broth is broiling
my confusion fills
the dark corners
dancing in sunlight
of a winter sky
in sweltering heat
Another minute to wait
of late how long
how short too short
to show a tall tale
of mindless woe
and glistens listening
in the sparkling dew
drops of my sun shining
dancing into confused corners
what am I saying
where am I going
what are you waiting for
too hot for cold
too cold for hot days
winding round lazy posts
until the peas sprout and
flower into roses on a cake
for fun for flying in the wind
of a confused shining shimmering
glistening listening
wonder at this wanderer
who is lost while
knowing the way
Can you tell I am feeling a little jumbled? In fact, I am feeling a lot jumbled lately. One time, not too long before I left the monastery, when I was reading the book of Leviticus, which is actually a really profound read if you can manage to stay awake, I was struck by a passage which treats of voluntary sacrifices. It pretty much said that if you don't have an animal fit for a voluntary sacrifice, then it is better not to offer the sacrifice at all, seeing as it is optional. I said to myself, thinking of my vocation struggles at the time, "Ah, but alas, I don't have a perfect goat." But God does not call men and women to offer perfect bulls or goats or turtledoves on a bronze altar these days. Rather He invites each one of us to give everything to Him in surrender to his loving and merciful Will on the altar of our daily lives. He knows we are full of imperfections! Saint Catherine of Sienna related that God made us full of imperfections so that we would need one another. We are made for community. Pope John Paul I, who is my new favorite reading right now, tells how God lets us struggle even with great imperfections so that we can stay humble and so that He can show us His Mercy. At present, I am keenly aware of my imperfections. But I am not without hope either, because I know the one in whom I have placed my trust. A spiritual big sister of mine, many years ago now, gave me a print out of a quote by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ and as it is fitting to quote a Jesuit today on the feast of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, I will conclude with this quote, entitled "Patient Trust", that I keep on my nightstand. It is pretty long, here is an excerpted version:
"Above all, trust in the slow work of God...We are impatient of being on the way to something new. And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made by passing through some stages of instability - and that it may take a very long time....Give our Lord the benefit of believing that his hand is leading you, and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete." -Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ
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