Sunday Words: A belated birthday homage to Rilke

Last Sunday was the birthday of Rainer Maria Rilke, who is one of my all-time favorite poets (although, I confess, he had to grow on me at first). And here is one of my all-time favorite poems by Rilke, perfect for a Sunday, or for any day, if you ask me:

1

I live my life in growing orbits
which move out over the things of the world.
Perhaps I can never achieve the last,
but that will be my attempt.

I am circling around God, around the ancient tower,
and I have been circling for a thousand years,
and I still don't know if I am a falcon, or a storm,
or a great song.

-- from Das Stundenbuch

Sunday Words: A Holy Yes

"Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist--the real truth of who we are... "

from Natalie Goldberg's book Writing Down the Bones

Sunday Words: Thanks

"God of all broken hearts, empty hands, sleeping soldiers,
  God of all star-flung beaches of night sky,
  I and my love-child stand up together to-day and sing: 'Thanks, O God.'"

--from Carl Sandburg's poem "Fire Dreams"

Sunday Words From Uncle Walt

"Be not dishearten'd, affection shall solve the problems of freedom yet,
 Those who love each other shall become invincible."

--From Walt Whitman's "Over the Carnage Rose a Prophetic Voice," Leaves of Grass

Sunday Words: On Commitment and Blessing

"It's not a matter of what you deserve, and -- more to the point -- certainly not a matter of what you think you deserve. All that matters is what you're committed to,and how you honor that commitment, and -- sometimes -- what you are blessed by."

--M. Allen Cunningham in his article "In the Absence of Yes," Poets&Writers Nov/Dec 2011

Sunday Words from Jane Hirshfield

The world asks of us
only the strength we have and we give it.
Then it asks more, and we give it.


--from Jane Hirshfield's poem, "The Weighing"
   whole poem here

Sunday Words: Marie Howe and Kay Ryan

Dear Universe, thank you for public radio.

In a little twist on the usual Sunday words, here are links to two interviews: one with Marie Howe, and the other with Kay Ryan.

I almost choked when Terry Gross introduced Marie Howe as a "little-known poet." But I was glad to hear Marie Howe interviewed, and especially liked hearing her talk about the poem she'd been trying to write for twenty years. It gives me hope for a few of my resting poems that I just can't let go of. Here's the interview.

And here is Michael Krasny of KQED interviewing Kay Ryan. I am always encouraged by her later-in-life success, and I like the bit of rebel streak in her (have you ever read her essay, 'I Go to AWP '?). Best quote from the interview (I am paraphrasing): Michael Krasny asks Kay Ryan if she reads much contemporary poetry. She says 'No,' -- pause -- 'Kind of a conversation stopper isn't it?'



(Image is public domain from wikimedia commons).

Sunday Words for the Occupiers

A paraphrase of Ghandi:

First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.

Words for Sunday from Steve Jobs

"Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

-- Steve Jobs (1955-2011) in his 2005 commencement address at Stanford

Sunday Words: Two Autumns

"I go / you stay / two autumns"

--Basho

Sunday Words: from 'Orchard'

"I saw the first pear
as it fell—
the honey-seeking, golden-banded,
the yellow swarm
was not more fleet than I,
(spare us from loveliness)
and I fell prostrate
crying:
you have flayed us
with your blossoms,
spare us the beauty
of fruit-trees. "


--from 'Orchard' by H.D.

Words for Sunday: Attention Writers and Everyone Else: "We Must Be Willing to Risk"

"Much as we may wish it otherwise, reality seldom comes to us simple, logical, all of a piece. (A human being) is an animal, we must say if we are honest, but (we are) also more than animal. In honesty we must say that too. If we are determined to speak the plain sense of our experience, we must be willing to risk the charge of speaking what often sounds like nonsense."

--from Frederick Buechner's spiritual writings, collected in Listening to Your Life, compiled and edited by George Connor


(NB: parentheses mine to make the quote gender inclusive; forgive me, I couldn't not)

Words for Sunday: Excerpt from "Gift" by Rabindranath Tagore

"... Truest treasure is fleeting;
It sparkles for a moment, then goes.
It does not tell its name; its tune
Stops us in our tracks, its dance disappears
At the toss of an anklet.
I know no way to it --
No hand, nor word can reach it.
Friend, whatever you take of it,
On your own,
Without asking, without knowing, let that
Be yours. ..."

the poet's signature (from Wikipedia)

More about this poet here.

Translated from the Bengali by William Radice

Sunday Words: From Miss Emily D.

Who has not found the Heaven--below--
Will fail of it above-- ...

Love-Words for Valentine's Day

These words come to us from the 13th century.  They are from the sacred writings of Hadewijch of Antwerp.


Love's Maturity


In the beginning Love satisfies us.
When Love first spoke to me of love --
How I laughed at her in return!
But then she made me like the hazel trees,
Which blossom early in the season of darkness,
And bear fruit slowly.

--trans. by Oliver Davies


These, and last week's, words are from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women, edited by Jane Hirshfield.

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you.

Words for Sunday: Zi Ye

Drew posted some words for Sunday, and inspired me to do the same.  These words are from a collection of ancient Chinese folk songs called the Zi Ye.  The Zi Ye were traditionally ascribed to a woman poet of the same name.  (May I humbly suggest closing your eyes, taking a deep breath, and then reading this aloud?):


All night I could not sleep
because of the moonlight on my bed.
I kept on hearing a voice calling:
Out of Nowhere, Nothing answered "yes."

--tr. by Arthur Waley

Sunday Night Prayer

From Dag Hammarskjold (ok, sorry but I don't know how to add an umlaut over that O in html):


Night is drawing nigh
For all that has been -- thanks!
For all that shall be -- yes!

Sunday Night Prayer

This prayer has been attributed both to Mary Stewart, as in Mary, Queen of Scots, and also to Mary Stewart, a woman living in Colorado in 1904. Honestly, I don't know how the two Mary Stewarts could ever be confused, one with the other (chalk it up to the Internet), but I haven't been able to verify the true source of the prayer, which I first came across several years ago. My favorite part is the last line; at my house, you can often hear me calling it out from my post in the kitchen during Sibling Moments.


Keep us, O God, from pettiness.
Let us be large in thought, in word, in deed.
May we put away all pretense and meet each other, face to face, without self-pity and without prejudice.
May we never be hasty in judgment and always generous.
Let us take time for all things; make us grow calm, serene, gentle.
Teach us to put in action our better impulses, straight-forward and unafraid.
Grant that we may realize it is the little things of life that create difficulties; that in the big things of life we are as one.
And, O Lord, let us not forget to be kind!


P.S. I am voting for the Mary Stewart, a woman living in Colorado in 1904, attribution. Something tells me the word choice and phraseology don't bear the stamp of a 16th century Latin prayer (which is probably how Mary, Queen of Scots would have prayed, since she was Catholic).

Sunday Night Prayer

From the Buddhist tradition:


May I be at peace.
May my heart remain open.
May I awaken to the light of my own true nature.
May I be healed.
May I be a source of healing for all beings.


Good Sunday night to you.

Sunday Night Prayer

Here's a prayer for those of you who, like me, find that "the world is charged with the grandeur of God" (that's Gerard Manley Hopkins; read the whole poem here).


Song of Amergin

I am the wind that blows across the sea
I am the wave of the deep
I am the roar of the ocean
I am the stag of seven battles
I am the hawk on the cliff
I am a ray of sunlight
I am the greenest of plants
I am a wild boar
I am a lake on the plain
I am the word of knowledge
I am the point of a spear
I am the lure beyond the ends of the earth
I am the god who put fire in your head
Who made trails through stone mountains
Who knows the age of the moon
Who knows where the setting sun rests


Some believe the Song of Amergin is oldest surviving poem to be composed in Ireland. It was composed several hundred years before the birth of Christ (which technically makes it a pagan prayer, but since it's so beautiful, and since the world is charged with the grandeur of God, I'm hoping God won't mind).

[Photo credit goes to my dad: Sunrise over Torch Lake]