the sea and sky are moody
much like me…
I came here for perspective
I came here to be free
the wild gives you scale
it is true that I am small
but also interconnectedness
the horizon paints it all
in the system that includes all things
I have a part to play
it is enough to be and do this,
today, and every day.
Talitha Fraser
In an earlier post I mentioned copying down titles of books of poetry in a bookshop I didn’t have time to read as using them as a springboard for my own writing… here’s a few more hacks:
inside us the dead
inside us the dead
beckon on, beckon on
witnessing, waiting,
whispering:
“what will you do?”
…will you do?
“what will you do?”
…will you do?
“you are the change
you have been waiting for”
treading water
bus, train, work, train, bus
bus, train, work, train, bus
Talitha Fraser
I lost my heart one day at the fair,
I held it in my hand then next thing it wasn’t there
I looked for it high, I looked for it low,
I looked for it, but knew I had to let it go.
It might get broken, or it might get tossed,
it might get stolen, it might get lost,
but maybe, I wondered, somehow, I knew
it found it’s way back and, while gone, it grew.
Talitha Fraser
Talitha Fraser
Head is clamped in a vice.
Immobilising pain, immobilising
tongue and hand
I am unreconciled between who I wish I was
and who I am.
Longing for something (else) sacred
when I can run my hand through soft grass,
listen to the water going places and
be embraced by the over arching branches.
I feel like I have carried troubled violence
into a peacful place – the unrest within
I want to curl up here on the bank
a rest awhile – wake to the world being different
or myself.
What does it mean to be made in the
image of God?
Talitha Fraser
the valley is in shadow
and the water here
runs silver like liquid mercury
a shining wealth
this flowing, life giving
life force commuting the very stones to its course
there is much that can be learned from water
diamonds, starlight pouring from the moss
catching and releasing in the same moment
paying forward what is received
shining in the shadows
hope unlooked for
Talitha Fraser
The Purpose behind questions is to intiate the quest ~ Phil Cousineau
Think of a question to ask your inner monk, your inner artist, and the two of them together.
* * *
I am going to start living like a monk…
My body will be attuned to the rhythms
of the seasons and the sacred
Grace will be found in simplicity
and in profound complexity too
the flowers will be my incense and
the canopy of dappled shade the
high arches of my chapel
I will kneel there – in good earth
daisies to dust
I am going to start living like an artist…
I will listen to my body more –
not only my doing-hands but
my dancing-feet, my oustretching-arms,
my glad-heart…
I will live in and move to the
resurrection given to me new
every morning I will learn to move
like water, like butterflies and
be still like stones and breeze-stirred flowers
asking for nothing except to be accepted
for what we are.
I will learn new ways to find You,new ways to follow You,
I will learn anew.
I am going to start living like a mystic…
In the beginning was the Word and
the Word was made flesh, my body
broken for You will speak more
loudly than my lips could ever argue
my silence in solidarity will speak more
than my suppressed, silent sexuality.
The prayers are my knowing You and
You knowing me and give shape to
the extent of my ignorance…
this will burn on a cairn made in
my watershed with these two hands
an offering, a confession, a covenant.
in a cocoon of dappled sunlight
I am embraced between the roots
and the arms of this oak tree
here I find You
and know I am not alone
I am not unwanted
I am not without purpose
You make me daily
and I give thanks
for this daily bread
Talitha Fraser
today I found an upturned tree
I selected a stone…
flat, smooth, hopeful
and I nestled it amongst the
roots to be safe
some part of myself
to be kept safe
always
or only
until the next high tide
or tempest comes
but for now, for today, safe.
Talitha Fraser
You are a God of small things.
Snapped shoe laces, the sticking utensil drawer
Outreaching arm over the cold side of the bed
Watching the bus you’re meant to be on go by
(and the one after that)
Siren chaser, conflict avoider, the job I don’t want to go to much today
What I needed to bring and forgot,
What I wanted to say but didn’t
(the stupid thing I say instead)
You – in my fears, real or imagined
You – my consolation and my comfort
You – there always in all things
You
Talitha Fraser
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