You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
A hundred miles inland from the nearest port, we encountered a three-legged tree. Until looking closer after being told the house beside it was built a century earlier by a retired sea captain, you’d have no clue a whale jaw had been leaned against the young trunk, where they grew together.
Irrigated, of course, this being desert.
The question remained. Who was farther from true home?
For more insights from the American Far West and Kokopelli, click here.
once more, flipping a month, a year
another mountain, loon, lighthouse, tulip
markers of days and flowing
history or future encoded
as numerals, this imprecise bank ledger
with moon phases
occasionally with a comfort of knowing I’ve been there
or desire to go
or recollection of encountering what’s pictured
as for next month or next year
no matter how carefree
the intended journey or dreaming
some map or guiding is essential
unless we’re simply floating
and who knows, then
still, the clearest water remains a mask
moving, breathing
more than land
with the preponderance of life
on land, atop
in water, below
while the intertidal zones
open to interpretation
each tide
a page that turns back on itself
enigmas
a reminder of holy spaces
we enter rarely, if ever
point behind point
without end
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
The old swami was only fifty-one, I see now.
He thought Helene and I both were way too skinny.
The cookies my mother, an inept cook, shipped
went to class anyway. The break, after a workout.
“You moved away from this? You’re nuts!”
“Breathe as if you’re a sponge,” Loretta encouraged.
Life is different when the mind controls the breath.
“You are the most interesting person you’ll ever meet,”
Guru-dev insisted. “Stand in your own Light,
not others’.”
Or stand on your own head, before falling over.
“People leave us alone,” the young bride radiated.
“We pacifists are no fun to fight with.”
An exchange of floral garlands
made a wedding.
When the husband chanted,
he sounded like a puppy
first thing in the morning.
This would be as close as I would get to India
from Ohio.
To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015
When I see this …
… I think of this.
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I’ve been trying to avoid one nagging question: How does your faith make you a different person? How has it changed your life? Followed by: How do others perceive this?
The old Quaker testimonies presented faith as a matter of the way we live. Our “sufferings” for our beliefs. (It matters THAT much!) The days when Friends lived “under discipline” – language and clothing as outward expressions – remaining inescapable.
So what about today? How does being Quaker (or whatever your faith) make you not just different, but a better person than you would have otherwise been?
~*~
For more of my reflections, click here.
Think of our tradition of traveling with a “minute of concern” or of traveling in free-Gospel ministry. So wonderful to revive.
For example:
in my travels, presenting
a minute of introduction and approval
even after a stupefaction
“what are we supposed to do with this?”
I’ll explain
this ancient custom revived
what pleasure to meet others also
in public ministry
and encourage the same
~*~
some places their messages will trouble
though many resist
some find
comfort and rest
some hold fast where they wrestle
inwardly and out
~*~
as one clerk endorsed my letter after worship
another Friend announced he’d just received
approval to visit fellow scientists in Siberia
and a voice cried out, “Do you have a minute from Meeting?”
and one was drafted
and approved on the spot
as a start . renewed
poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
~*~
For more poems and other books, click here.
When I see this …
… I think of this.
For the free ebook novel and more, click here.
Even our name, Society of Friends, emphasizes that we’re an assembly of PEOPLE. While we come together “to know that which is eternal,” each of us brings something different to the table (shall I say “our invisible communion table?), whether it’s in worship or our committee service.
As people, our individual training and daily work shapes our personal experience of the divine, and probably each other. I long to hear more from the varied insights within that kaleidoscope. Someone drilled in mathematics, for instance, may see a particular elegance and absolute beauty emerging within a complex calculation; a physicist, awe in the immensity and energy of the universe; a teacher, in the opening of young minds and the challenges that go with it; a carpenter, in the very character of wood or an emerging space; an artist, in the physical variations of revealed light; a gardener or farmer, in the rhythms of the seasons or the tenacity of weeds; I recall one salesman who treasured finding ways to help people solve unique problems in their businesses, even if he didn’t sell his product that time around.
I like the fact that in Bible stories we see occupations as well: shepherds, mothers, fishers, carpenters, weavers, purple-dye makers, tentmakers, rulers, even soldiers, slaves, and priests, their paths crossing and sometimes being transformed.
The other part of the story, of course, is what we take from our faith and practice into the nitty-gritty of our workplace and homes. How are we changed, to work change? In all the directions we go?
~*~
For more of my reflections, click here.
When I see this …
… I think of this.
For the free ebook novel and more, click here.
Reflecting on the set of queries read to our Quaker Meeting during worship one Sunday morning, I was struck by a fresh interpretation. That set opens
“Do you ‘live in the virtue of that life and power that takes away the occasion for all wars’? Do you faithfully maintain Friends’ testimony against military preparations and all participation in war, as inconsistent with the teaching and spirit of Christ?”
Initially, my mind considered ongoing conflicts around the world and the underlying conditions that fuel them. But to my surprise, as my thoughts turned to home, it was not the Pentagon that held my attention but the rising sales of guns sold for no other purpose but to maim or kill people – something quite different than hunting wildlife. Is this not “military preparations” of a more stealthy sort than we’d observe in the political arena? And what are the underlying conditions here? Hatred and racism, for sure, along with greed, lust, untruth, injustice, ignorance, fear, and much more, for certain. Turning these requires repentance, compassion, forgiveness, mutual respect, equality. Guns have no place in this equation.
New England Yearly Meeting’s queries on peace and reconciliation continue by urging an alternative action:
“Do you strive to increase understanding and use of nonviolent methods of resolving conflicts? Do you take your part in the ministry of reconciliation between individuals, groups, and nations? When discouraged, do you remember what Jesus said, ‘Peace is my parting gift to you, my own peace, such as the world cannot give. Set your troubled hearts at rest, and banish your fears.’ John 14:27 NEB”
