ST19: "How This Wealth Came to Be" by Robert Bly

"How This Wealth Came to Be"

It's hard to know how all this wealth came to be.
Ishmael was not created from a fight with a whale.
The ocean is not wild enough to have created Melville's soul.

The hungry one in us did not come from seed.
Our old enemy is one of Adam's grandfathers.
He stood around looking at the shadow of the first soul.

The Ark landed on Ararat; but all those
Who came off the Ark know that the voyage
Was not long enough to produce Abraham's soul.

Oaks once darkened almost all of Great Britain,
Covering it with leaves.  But squirrels rummaging
In a million acorns could not find Chaucer's soul.

How many boulders had to be ground down
To produce one square inch of the Sahara!
Maybe the moon gave birth to Mandela's soul.

There is a mystery about the birth of Jesus.  All that
Snow that fell to earth Christmas Eve finally
Did shift for an instant the weight of Rome's soul.

--Robert Bly

Source: Bly, Robert. 2001. The Night Abraham Called to the Stars. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

RW10: An untitled poem about the gifts of friendship

I wrote this poem earlier this month after helping a friend move to the DC area.  It speaks of the hidden graces of time with friends.  


A friend in need,
of a place to lay her head,
store her bags,
as she settles in a new city;

A friend in need of a purpose for the next month,
An outlet to serve,
And a routine to help her sleep well again,

Meeting one another's needs,
As they share Trader Joe's and their affinity for Harry Potter,
Both begin to approach more peaceful states...

--Gertrude Rose
Personal Journal
8/3/2014

PR13: A haiku about sleep

I wrote this 2 years ago in August during a vacation from my service in Honduras.  It still resonates today.  


Sleep. Wanted. Needed.
At last a space to turn off
Blessing of my bed.

--Gertrude Rose
Personal Journal
8/13/2012

ST18: "Pitzeem and the Mare" by Robert Bly

Here is the second of the two poems by Bly that I read last week.  I hope you enjoy this one as well.

"Pitzeem and the Mare"

Let's tell the other story about Pitzeem and his horse.
When the One He Loved moved to the mountains,
He bought a mare and a saddle and started out.

He rode all day with fire coming out of his ears,
And all night. When the reins fell, the mare knew it right
Away. She turned and headed straight for the barn.

No one had told Pitzeem, but his horse had left
A new foal back in the stable. She thought of nothing
All day but his sweet face with its long nose.

Pitzeem! Pitzeem! How much time you've lost!
He put the mountain between the mare's ears again.
He slapped his own face; he was a good lover.

And every night he fell asleep once more. Friends,
Our desire to reach our true wife is great,
But the mare's love for her child is also great. Please

Understand this. The journey was a three-day trip,
But it took Pitzeem thirty years. You and I have been
Riding for years, but we're still only a day from home.


--Robert Bly

Source: Bly, Robert. 2001. The Night Abraham Called to the Stars. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

ST17: "Nikos and His Donkey" by Robert Bly

I have been reading one poem a night from a book of poems by Robert Bly over the past month.  This past week I read two gems, I hope you enjoy.  This first one approaches the central theme of my personal poetry, gratitude, from an unexpected angle.

"Nikos and His Donkey"

Let's tell the sweet story about the day Nikos,
Wandering around with his donkey and saddlebags,
Turned up one day at a farm of Godseekers.

The Godseekers all came out when he knocked.
They welcomed him, gave him tea, brought
His donkey to the stable for oats and water.

"Stay for supper," they said. How glad he was!
They drank tea for hours. Dinner came.
They all ate happily and began to dance.

The Godseekers sang two lines over and over:
"Compared to God's, our song is only a bray;
How beautiful is the scent of a thousand hairs!"

In the morning, he said, "Could I have my donkey?"
They said: "What do you mean, your donkey?
You ate the meal! You danced. You sang the songs!"

The donkey we have loved for years may be killed
And cooked one day while we go on singing.
So don't write a single poem without gratitude.

--Robert Bly

Source: Bly, Robert. 2001. The Night Abraham Called to the Stars. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

st16: "i carry your heart" by ee cummings

I failed to post anything last weekend because I was at the beautiful wedding of two dear friends whom I served with in Honduras.  It was a weekend of true beauty and joy.  This beautiful piece was sung to music by the groom's father at the rehearsal.  In gratitude for sharing in that beautiful weekend I share it with you all.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

--e.e. cummings

PR12: "Life is beautiful"

I wrote this couplet about a beautiful retreat house we used to visit while living in Honduras.  The house was in "Pico Bonito", the hilly river area outside of the city where we lived.  It is truly one of the more beautiful places on this earth, and provided a great retreat to nature and its peaceful tones from life in the city.

"Life is beautiful"

Pico Bonito
Teaches us that true beauty
comes from nature

When we follow ours
And then listen to our hearts
Life is beautiful

--Gertrude Rose
Personal Journal
1/18/2012