Licht Years

where are you going, where have you been?

Category Archives: poetry

at this table

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Perhaps the World Ends Here
~ Joy Harjo

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

a lot of history on this table
every scratch and water stain has its own story

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winter solstice

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Remember, the time of year
when the future appears
like a blank sheet of paper
a clean calendar, a new chance.
On thick white snow

you vow fresh footprints
then watch them go
with the wind’s hearty gust.
So fill your glass. Here’s to us. Promises
made to be broken, made to last.

~ Jackie Kay

**********

Whatever is beautiful,
Whatever is meaningful,
Whatever brings you happiness…
May it be yours this Holiday Season
and throughout the coming year.

a pause

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This is not a season
but a pause
between one future & another,
a day after a day,
a breathing space before death,
a breathing, the rain

throwing itself down out of the
bluegrey sky, clear joy.

– Margaret Atwood
(from “Rain”)

Happy National Poetry Month!

slowing to a silence

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Oh, the coming-out-of-nowhere moment when, nothing happens
no what-have-I-to-do-today-list
maybe half a moment the rush of traffic stops.
The whir of I should be, I should be, I should be
slows to silence,
the white cotton curtains hanging still.
~ Marie Howe

Don’t you just love days like that? I had one yesterday and it was perfectly lovely. So nice to have no plans, to just improv each moment. I found Marie Howe’s poem on Shawna Lemay’s blog and I tucked it away in my notes, hoping to have the opportunity to use it here. It’s no secret that I am a big fan of her site. In this often narcissistic world of social media, her blog is a breath of fresh air. Her posts are educational and thought provoking, not to mention, visually stimulating.

Which leads me to this book I’m currently reading. “Rumi and the Red Handbag” is Shawna’s sparkling new novel and I spent the morning wrapped up in it. Its a short novel, only 140 pages, but what a “capacious hold all” of a book (if you read it, you will get the reference). I’m taking my time, savoring the words, highlighting passages, jotting down notes on little sticky pads, just as I imagine her character, Shaya might do. This is truly a book to savor and I believe its going to become a new classic, one that will surely put Shawna on the map..actually it already has.

Currently on so many prestigious recommended reading lists, including HERE and HERE.

A beautiful journey,
A soulful read,
it just is.

and I just thought I’d share it with you.

passion

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AUTUMN
The passion
Is still flourishing in the branches
Yellow funny and daring red
The sun warms even in the days
Where the fog
Stubbornly in the morning
From a distance
A woodpecker knocks
Impermanence
Is the enemy of beauty

~ Kristian Goldmund Aumann
journal of a nobody