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All Hallows
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:
This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling
Come here
Come here, little one
And the soul creeps out of the tree.
- Louise Glück
All Souls
Did someone say that there would be an end,
An end, Oh, an end, to love and mourning?
Such voices speak when sleep and waking blend,
The cold bleak voices of the early morning
When all the birds are dumb in dark November—å
Remember and forget, forget, remember.
After the false night, warm true voices, wake!
Voice of the dead that touches the cold living,
Through the pale sunlight once more gravely speak.
Tell me again, while the last leaves are falling:
“Dear child, what has been once so interwoven
Cannot be raveled, nor the gift ungiven.”
Now the dead move through all of us still glowing,
Mother and child, lover and lover mated,
Are wound and bound together and enflowing.
What has been plaited cannot be unplaited—
Only the strands grow richer with each loss
And memory makes kings and queens of us.
Dark into light, light into darkness, spin.
When all the birds have flown to some real haven,
We who find shelter in the warmth within,
Listen, and feel new-cherished, new-forgiven,
As the lost human voices speak through us and blend
Our complex love, our mourning without end.
- May Sarton
Vulture
I had walked since dawn and lay down to rest on a bare
hillside
Above the ocean. I saw through half-shut eyelids a
vulture wheeling
high up in heaven,
And presently it passed again, but lower and nearer,
its orbit
narrowing,
I understood then
That I was under inspection. I lay death-still and
heard the flight-
feathers
Whistle above me and make their circle and come
nearer.
I could see the naked red head between the great wings
Bear downward staring. I said, "My dear bird, we are
wasting time
here.
These old bones will still work; they are not for
you." But how
beautiful
he looked, gliding down
On those great sails; how beautiful he looked, veering
away in the
sea-light
over the precipice. I tell you solemnly
That I was sorry to have disappointed him. To be eaten
by that beak
and
become part of him, to share those wings and
those eyes--
What a sublime end of one's body, what and enskyment;
what a life
after death.
- Robinson Jeffers
Nor the word once spoken be un-spoken.
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Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
Yes, I saw this vulture above the Bill Kortum trail outside of Bodega Bay and I made a date with her.
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Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
For me, I associate the Vulture with Christ Consciousness. The awakening.Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
Celestial burial is practiced in Tibet, since the country has little wood for funeral pyres or cremation, and rocky soil that makes grave digging impractical. A specially trained holy man/professional body handler takes the body high up to the top of a flattened plateau, and dismembers the deceased, feeding meat to the vultures, who take it higher towards heaven, consume the flesh so it never again touches the lowly ground. He even grinds the bones into a softer pudding, which the birds relish, so that nothing of the human body remains on earth.
The family are present to experience the ritual, but are at some distance so they don't witness up close the hacking up of their loved one. They just wait for it to be done, and are solemn in prayer. Although westerners might be put off by such a practice, with thoughts of Tony Soprano and whacking, it really is a clean, beautiful end and is environmentally perfect. Where we would be without the glorious vulture is anyone's guess... but with just the past month's deer road kill alone, we would be drowning in the stench of decay. Also, they say a vulture can sense death, so if you are still alive and a vulture is showing interest, you might want to get a checkup.
Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Timothy Gega:
It's a beautiful ritual Chris Dec. The Vulture is a majestic creature. Like the Crow it sends signs between both worlds. We have to interpret them.Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Chris Dec:
For many years I've said that I want to live long enough for Sky Burial to become legal here (again).
While I appreciate the Tibetan form (well portrayed in the stunning movie Himalaya), for my own body I'd prefer the plains Indians form. Put you up on a platform and let the vultures eat at their leisure.
Here are lyrics from a vulture song I wrote after a respectful encounter:
vultures
a baker's dozen vultures in a tree--
o what a beautiful sight to see!
i spoke to them & they heard me
paying my respects so gratefully:
i thank you for the work you give,
cleaning up the dead that we may live.
i thank you for the way you fly,
giving my heart the wings to try.
i joined my hands & bowed in love
as they watched keenly from above.
i sprinkled sage & walked along,
in turn they offered me this song:
we who eat you when you die
carry you with us when we fly
we who eat you when you die
carry you with us when we fly,
carry you with us when we fly.
Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Chris Dec:
Wow, that's beautiful Sandoak. I thought I was the only person to appreciate the Vulture. It's great to hear from others who feel the same way.
I used to know an old lady (and I'm one now!) who said "Just toss me on the compost heap" which I like. I do practice Tibetan Buddhism, but I don't think their way is legal here...much more useful to toss some food than a box of ashes, though...
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Posted in reply to the post by Timothy Gega:
This short National Geographic video shows some of the difficulties created by "sky burials" in Tibet.
https://youtu.be/BreEms4m_6U
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Posted in reply to the post by Timothy Gega:
Had not read the poem but saw all the comments coming in.
It is indeed a sublime poem.
The Parsis in India (and I think Zoroastrians in Iran, if there are any left), also practice leaving the body exposed at the Tower of Silence, to be devoured by crows or vultures. Currently, I just discovered, a problem...not enough vultures any longer in Mumbai:
https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2...ers-of-silence
American Tune
Many's the time I've been mistaken and many times
confused.
Yes, and often felt forsaken and certainly misused.
But I'm all right, I'm all right, I'm just weary to my
bones.
Still, you don’t expect to be bright and bon vivant so
far away from home, so far away from home.
And I don't know a soul who's not been battered I
don't have a friend who feels at ease.
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered or
driven to its knees.
But it's all right, it's all right, for we've lived so
well so long.
Still, when I think of the road we're traveling on, I
wonder what went wrong, I can't help but wonder what
went wrong.
And I dreamed I was dying.
I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly and looking
back down at me smiled reassuringly, and I dreamed I
was flying.
And high above my eyes could clearly see the Statue of
Liberty sailing away to sea, and I dreamed I was
flying.
And we come on the ship they call the Mayflower, we
come on the ship that sailed the moon.
We come in the age's most uncertain hour and sing an
American tune
oh, but it’s all right, it's all right, it's all
right, you can't be forever blessed.
Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day and
I'm trying to get some rest, that's all I'm trying is
to get some rest.
- Paul Simon
Even today it's the same old news, every man singing the Americana Blues.Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
The minerals in those ashes may very well become nutrients for a butterfly…and we all know how one butterfly can change everything.
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Posted in reply to the post by Sara S:
A great poem and a great song.
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Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
A Descending Poem
The simple fact is that life
with all its convolutions, paradoxes and ironies,
ambiguities and buggering endless pairs of opposites,
is pretty bizarre
much of the time.
Was it Beckett who wrote,
“I can’t go on. I’ll go on”?
And Frida said, “I hope the ending
is joyous, and I hope
never to return.”
And yet some stupid Hindu sage
said the fond memory
of a blade of grass
was enough to pull us back
for another incarnation.
Ya think the cards are stacked?
Cuz I’ve been pretty fond
of the occasional blade of grass.
Or sun pillar, or meteor shower.
Or baby’s toes.
And then there was Rosencrantz
who said—when he was still standing
on the scaffold, “I dunno. I’m
relieved actually.”
So this is a descending poem:
down and around, down and around.
How far down do you
have to go before you
can start back up?
Carlyle described
The Everlasting No
The Center of Indifference
The Everlasting Yea.
On the cross, did Jesus
think fondly of a blade of grass?
Is the Everlasting Yea simply
a glorious acceptance
of the whole steaming enchilada?
The entire, unendurable, all-encompassing enchilada?
I’m thinking going down
is easier than going up.
Before the arc of my life ends
I hope I get at least a taste
of the ascent, the fruits of one’s labors.
Timing is everything
and Vonnegut said
“God never wrote
a good play in His life.”
But I’d give a lot
for a taste
of the ascent.
Wait a minute—
how much, I wonder.
Maybe I better pin my hopes
on grace.
Pythagorus said,
“Ye write and have written down
for posterity how this
most precious tree is planted,
and how he that eats of its fruits
shall hunger no more.”
Pooh, on the other hand,
said the first thing he thinks
every morning is
“What’s for breakfast?”
- Kerry Lichlyter
Ya know ya gotta love the whole enchilada. (Chocolate helps.)Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
Greg Sarris also appreciates vultures, including their tender loving, which he and I have both had the honor of witnessing.
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Posted in reply to the post by Timothy Gega:
I wrote a poem about the Vulture in 2010 called, "Jesus tossing me Butterflies, " which I'll post when I can.Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by sandoak:
ARTICLES OF FAITH
Faith is a priceless treasure which some would invest in money and power, seeking private gain. Others of us invest in a vision of a world which may yet come to be: a world of justice, peace and beauty. We place our faith in life itself.
We Believe
That life is infinitely creative, resourceful, reliable and ultimately good.
That human beings are an expression of that life force and, as such, are creative, resourceful, reliable and fundamentally good.
That all life is inextricably connected - what happens to any of us happens to all of us.
That evil exists as a potential in all human beings and it derives from the illusion that we are separate from each other and from the fountain of life.
That evil cannot be vanquished by force of arms or by fear. It can only be conquered by love.
In the power of love and direct non-violent action to
transform institutions, social systems and the human heart.
That the arc of human history moves toward democracy, justice and an appreciation for our wondrous multiplicity of expression.
That it is the right of all people to enjoy life, liberty and the security of person; to be treated equally under the law; to enjoy freedom of thought, conscience and religion; to free expression and association; to have free access to clean water and air.
That it is possible for all human beings to be free from economic want and poverty and to live with dignity.
That peace among and within nations is only possible when these rights are assured to everyone.
That the most fundamental responsibility of government is to ensure the health and well-being of the land and of all its inhabitants.
That individual rights and must be balanced with responsibility for the well-being of the community.
That the success and survival of our civilization and, possibly, that of the human race are in increasing jeopardy because of our commitment to an unsustainable pattern of resource consumption, particularly our dependence upon fossil fuels.
That while our planet’s physical resources are finite, the resources of love and imagination are without end.
That it is indeed possible to create a society which lives sustainably and harmoniously within the parameters of our planetary life support systems.
That we have a responsibility to live in such a way that we do not diminish the opportunity for future generations to enjoy the same quality of life which we enjoy.
That a human birth is a precious gift that is accompanied by a responsibility to act with generosity, sensitivity and compassion for all living beings.
In doing our best to leave a better world for our children.
That all people, individually and collectively, are capable of learning from their mistakes.
That life inherently includes suffering, but we have a responsibility as members of the human family to do what we can to ease that suffering and to structure our social institutions in such a way as to minimize unnecessary suffering due to poverty, disease, war, injustice and environmental degradation.
That joy is also an inherent feature of life and it is possible to participate joyfully in the suffering of the world.
That each and every life has inherent value and is worthy of respect.
In poetry, art, music, dancing and the spirit of play.
In the power of truth.
That at the heart of all things is an ineffable mystery worthy of awe and wonder.
It is this faith which informs, guides and sustains our work in the world.
- Larry Robinson
__________________
This has been my experience also. The book, "Think and Grow Rich," (Napoleon Hill, 1937) has the best definition of "faith" that I've ever seen. Thank you Larry Robinson.Quote:
Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
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Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
Tossing me Butterflies
The Red Hawk flutters in front of my eyes,
My heart is lit up with joyful sighs.
The White Egret passes quietly on high,
Reminds me that the angels are nigh.
The Blue jays nagging in their devotion,
Their tune expressing every emotion.
The Vultures soar in graceful refrain,
Their message sent from a higher plain.
But I just listen to their replies,
Because, that’s just Jesus tossing me Butterflies.
By: Tim Gega
©2011 Alpha Moonprayers
Rise and Fall
Let go of fear
and rest in that which is.
For peace, like love,
comes to those who allow it.
Let go of fear
and rest in stillness.
Watch the breath rise...
and fall.
Watch the tide rise...
and fall.
Watch towers rise...
and fall.
Watch walls rise...
and fall.
Watch statues rise...
and fall.
Watch empires rise...
and fall.
Watch the breath rise...
and fall.
Let go of fear
and rest in the arms
of the One
who has always held you,
the One who holds
atoms and empires
and oceans and stars.
Let go of fear
and watch what happens next.
- Larry Robinson
There are those who are trying to set fire to the world,
we are in danger,
there is time only to work slowly,
there is no time not to love.
- Deena Metzger
Proclamation
Whereas the world is a house on fire;
Whereas the nations are filled with shouting;
Whereas hope seems small, sometimes
a single bird on a wire
left by migration behind.
Whereas kindness is seldom in the news
and peace an abstraction
while war is real;
Whereas words are all I have;
Whereas my life is short;
Whereas I am afraid;
Whereas I am free –despite all
fire and anger and fear;
Be it therefore resolved a song
shall be my calling – a song
not yet made shall be vocation
and peaceful words the work
of my remaining days.
- Kim Stafford
All My News
1.
I was not meant
to be renown
in the present
market town,
but in the future
some may find
what might be used
to change a mind
from slaughter
in the name of peace
to honouring
complexities,
and thus influence
politics
with deeper balance
deeper checks.
2.
Look on low
look on high,
see with Love’s
inhuman eye
not only charge
of opposites
(the broken heart
the healing fix),
but what engenders
every turn—
the leader on her
knees will learn.
And he who’s sick
with heavy thought
will cherish it
and fold his cot.
3.
Do not decode
these cries of mine—
They are the road,
and not the sign.
Nor deconstruct
my drugless high—
I’m sober but
I like to fly.
The quickened with
my open talk,
you need not pick
the ancient lock.
4.
Mystery now,
and now Revealed
I bend to Thee
my will to yield,
and whisper here
my gratitude
for every tear
of restless mood;
Who lets me breach
the walls of time
so I could touch
the ones to come
with wisdom that
my parents spoke
(established on an
anecdote),
and shorthand of
the unborn mind
with graceful effort
all combined.
5.
Undeciphered
let my song
rewire circuits
wired wrong,
and with my jingle
in your brain,
allow the Bridge
to arch again.
- Leonard Cohen
Loved this poet. RIP Mr Cohen, RIPQuote:
Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson:
Leonard left us his soulful words and imagery of life deeply lived. ... He must have inhaled Tuesday's breath of remorse and somberly exhaled a gravelly goodbye.
" ... but in the future
some may find what might be used
to change a mind."
"Long after I am gone you might hear from me again."
Amen
Jean