Inspiration Sundays
Thank you to my friend and sister Priestess, Jane, for sharing this with me. She knows I am a big fan of Alexander McCall Smith’s novels, but his poetry is pretty wonderful, too.
(She got to meet and talk with him some years ago, and discovered that he likes to be called “Sandy.” I just really love that. Thank you, Jane.)
Don’t forget that poetry is the most ancient form of spellcraft, so I urge you to read this (or sing it!) aloud. May it be a blessing and bring you peace in the midst of troubled times.
In a time of distance
The unexpected always happens in the way
The unexpected has always occurred:
While we are doing something else,
While we are thinking of altogether
Different things — matters that events
Then show to be every bit as unimportant
As our human concerns so often are;
And then, with the unexpected upon us,
We look at one another with a sort of surprise;
How could things possibly turn out this way
When we are so competent, so pleased
With the elaborate systems we’ve created —
Networks and satellites, intelligent machines,
Pills for every eventuality — except this one?
And so we turn again to face one another
And discover those things
We had almost forgotten,
But that, mercifully, are still there:
Love and friendship, not just for those
To whom we are closest, but also for those
Whom we do not know and of whom
Perhaps we have in the past been frightened;
The words brother and sister, powerful still,
Are brought out, dusted down,
Found to be still capable of expressing
What we feel for others, that precise concern;
Joined together in adversity
We discover things we had put aside:
Old board games with obscure rules,
Books we had been meaning to read,
Letters we had intended to write,
Things we had thought we might say
But for which we never found the time;
And from these discoveries of self, of time,
There comes a new realisation
That we have been in too much of hurry,
That we have misused our fragile world,
That we have forgotten the claims of others
Who have been left behind;
We find that out in our seclusion,
In our silence; we commit ourselves afresh,
We look for a few bars of song
That we used to sing together,
A long time ago; we give what we can,
We wait, knowing that when this is over
A lot of us — not all perhaps — but most,
Will be slightly different people,
And our world, though diminished,
Will be much bigger, its beauty revealed afresh.
19 March, 2020
that is beautiful—thank you for sharing it. here’s one of my own, in the same spirit.
pelican
whenever you see a lack,
a crack in the world,
a nest full of clamouring beaks
open in hunger,
you have to find your feathers
you have to grow a beak yourself.
you have to feed those nestlings
somehow, you, yourself,
even if it means you peck
with borrowed beak
at your own sore chest
and feed them your life-blood,
because that is what being alive means.
we are called to care
unstintingly for all in need,
not just our own,
those we know
or resemble most.
we have to be ready to help
without hesitation,
no holding back,
like mothers who pour out
their life into their children
that they may live and thrive and shine.
to allay hunger is holy,
the holiest of impulses,
to pull down what divides,
quench the fires that threaten,
patch, mend, give, feed,
hold, help, heal,
restore, repair,
and love.
anything less
is a betrayal of life.
only when we see in the mirror
a shifting light-dark skin,
fur-scales-feathers-hair,
root and leaf,
rain and wind,
only then do we see truly
and know ourselves
myriad, both less and greater
than we thought,
expanding into wholeness,
hearts breaking into flight
as we find our way home
together.
Thank you so much Beth for sharing this beautiful poem. It did feel like a blessing and it brought calm and peace to my mind. I shared it with family members and friends. Will be returning to this poem often during this trying time.
charlotte
I like Alexander McCall Smith and his writing. This poem is lovely. I follow him on Goodreads.
Thank you for sharing.
Blessings
RuthAnne
Blessings to you, nofixedstars, for your beautiful poetry. I have read through it several times and it is gorgeous, especially aloud, as a spell-prayer.
Thank you, Charlotte — I am so glad this gave you respite for a little while in this stormy time. It is there for you to return to again and again when you need it.
And yes, RuthAnne — don’t you just love him? I fell in love via the Ladies Detective Agency, but his Isabel Dalhousie books were balm for my soul when I was sick — she makes me laugh out loud.
Thank you all for posting! It makes my day to meet with you here.
I especially appreciate your blog right now. Beth – thank you for all that you do.
Jennifer
🙂