Abundance

Abundance

My cup runs over
with wine, rest and peace

friends bring other friends
washing our rooms with laughter

the small dog loves everyone
unreasonably

work waits for me patiently
new books line up like a smiling army

the sea’s in full swell this morning
someone’s arranged stripes of light on the hills

indoors, wire and foil imitate stars
sprinkling the night with eternity’s sparkle.

Thinking of Minnesota

This picture is Niall and Nessa at a dinner in Portland - made me nostalgic for NAPT ...

Communities of poets

wrapped in words

robed in words

crowned with words

in love with wonderful words

You going one way, me in the other

Yesterday, a friend left Cornwall for London, to live very close to where I did before I came to Cornwall. I was surprised at how emotional I felt - it brought back all the places I had left, the farewells and the ruptures of relationships - a new feeling for me as previously, it had always felt 'right' that people moved on. Last night, I went to two parties - one for someone who had turned 80, the other 50 - full of their communities, children, grandchildren, shared history. As a relative new-comer, no children, not much history, I felt honoured to be there.

I'm uploading a picture of some of my writing community - taken eighteen months ago, since when there have been many changes in circumstances for the people in it ... Here's my poem:

We're all smiling although later

many of us will shed tears

We're together although tomorrow

some of us will wake to the ache of loneliness

Born alone, to die alone, but for that moment

we're together, smiling, one.

Two months asleep

Yesterday was like midsummer - I walked through Nansidwell down to the beach where people were in swimsuits, picnicking. The woods are coming alive - wild garlic, celandines, the first bluebells, birds busy nesting. This morning, thick mist so that the sea is invisible.

Mist

As the mist outside

hides the boats, the sea, the sun

my mind clears -

April's here, something's begun.

Sit Under a Tree

I watched a BBC 2 Natural World programme called Earth Pilgrim on the internet. It featured Satish Kumar, an inspirational world figure, talking about his regular walks on Dartmoor. He quoted the Buddha as saying that if you want enlightenment you must sit under a tree - or that the reason we aren't enlightened is that we don't sit under enough trees.

I really wanted to do that today but it was cold! No, it wasn't cold - I was insufficiently warmly dressed! On Sunday when I took this photo, it was warm. The view is up along the River Helford in Cornwall and the tree looks very sittable-under.

What will the tree teach me?

Stillness, faith that spring will come

Hospitality in all my branches, twigs, leaves

and fruit offered to insects and birds

That the world offers itself, here and now

no need to go anywhere

That the earth provides sustanance

water, that I give the world wood and fire

That my roots go deep and my arms reach for the sky

Tell Me What Else Should I Have Done?

The title for this post comes from the Mary Oliver poem 'The Summer Day' - yesterday I went walking with a friend who took this picture. I bumped into someone later in town who said something that made me feel guilty for taking a day off ... Another Mary Oliver line comes to mind - 'doesn't everything die and too soon?' - YES to life, walking, puppies, the power of now ...

Take this moment
It's a jewel, multifaceted, precious
Soon to be lost forever
Yes, hold it, turn it in the light of the sun
You can't have it forever
It will pass as surely as your last breath
But for now it is yours
If you want it - if you can only say yes.

New Dog

I have been absent the past fortnight - am still struggling to focus. Will probably struggle for the rest of my life!

Here is one excuse - an unexpected puppy - arrived in my life last Sunday - and now everything is different. One total pleasure is seeing her seeing things for the first time.

First blackbird, first car

Speed, flight, shadow, light

First sky, first moon

Space, change, day, night

First beach, first ball

Loving everyone that passes

For the first time, forever

Loving them all

Roses

This is a photograph from my back yard which is a mess - the constant rain means that it's been impossible to go out and tidy it. Roses shouldn't bloom in January! The rose is a variety called 'Fascination' and it was given as a wedding present to me and my ex-husband. Last night, at a my local poetry group, someone brought a poem about a rosebud and the group had so many different interpretations - roses clearly symbolise so many things. Here's my poem.

The rose blooms out of time

a reminder that love doesn't die

only sleeps and that even in winter

can suddenly show her bright face.

Catch-up - New Years Day

Two weeks ago now, and New Years Day was sparkling.

I took this photo walking home from friends.

Here's my poem:

The day is as fresh as a new blue dress

The year is a cloak no one has ever worn

I put on the day and the year and spin

in front of the mirror - where will I go?

What new loves will be born?

Standing

Yesterday was a day of gales and wind and my mood still edgy -finding it hard to focus and settle. By the afternoon, it was impossible to go out, the rain was so heavy. Out on the headland, the wind was strong enough to blow people over. The picture doesn't convey the strength of the wind but I could hardly stand - it was both exhilerating and scary. Here's my poem. (There are echoes I know of Jane Kenyon's Otherwise).

We take standing for granted
two feet, the unyielding earth

but one day the wind will teach

us otherwise, all gravity gone,

the breath of life blowing elsewhere.

The rain it raineth every day

The image shows me, in red, talking to George Wallace together with Caroline Carver on Long Island on a rainy day in October 2007.

Here, in Cornwall, January is dark and dismal - a couple of short hours of sunshine yesterday and rain again today. I had a DNOTS (dark night of the soul) last night - here's my poem. I was lucky that there was someone to put their arms around me this morning ... I feel for all those who have no one at all.

Awake at 3am and the room
should be empty but somehow
all the regrets got in under the door
and busy themselves, regretting -
the losses reply how lost they are
and the rain’s somehow come inside
my noisy head and invited the wind
to join her in telling the world
all the ways I went wrong.

Later in your arms,
the wind’s got the hint, taken the rain
the other side of the window pane -
they peer in from the other side
of the glass and beyond and over the sea,
regrets and losses get smaller,
disappear over the horizon with the far ships.

New Dawn

I agreed to participate in a photo-poetry group where we would post a photo and a poem and a note on process every day for 2008. Already it is the 12th January and I have photos and notes but find it hard to navigate the message-chains in yahoo so have decided to do it on my blog. In order to catch up, I will also post something from the earlier days.

Last night I was insomniac and having my period, this morning I woke at 8am - by the church clock chiming - and saw this mackeral sky. Here's my poem and photograph.

The sky is streaked with blood
The earth is aching for light
The dawn never fails us
This is the moment when love is brightest.