Category: songs/poetry

  • last night


    Full Moon over the Back Bay, originally uploaded by mind on fire.

    John captured this picture of the full moon over the Back Bay last night. I went out paddling by the light of this moon, which worked well until my rudder got stuck (the tide being so very low that I couldn’t navigate through a familiar route). I had to hop out of my boat and walk it back to deeper waters (brrr…it was a bit chilly to be soaked up to my waist!).

    I feel so fortunate to have such beauty around me…and so many opportunities to enjoy it.

    From Mary Oliver, “How Would You Live Then?”

    …What if you saw
    that the silver of water was brighter than the silver
    of money? What if you finally saw
    that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day
    and every day–who knows how?, but they do it–were
    more precious, more meaningful than gold?

  • Let her have brave days and truth…

    I apologize for not getting a Mary Monday post up yesterday, but deadlines are looming. So in the meantime let me urge you to watch this video and echo this prayer for the tender ones in your life. Or even for yourself, because we are all Blueberry Girls.

    And (swoon), what a sublime voice Neil Gaiman has….

  • flash poetry: flower haiku


    farmers market flower seller, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    It’s been awhile since I attempted some flash poetry. Because I need to get my creative juices flowing today, I decided to try my hand at a 10 minute haiku. (For those new to flash poetry, the point isn’t to be good, it’s just to have some fun by setting a timer for 5 or 10minutes and seeing what flows…):

    Indecisive, I
    take pictures, without buying
    from the flower stand.

  • Mary Monday: Daisies


    mellow yellow, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    I’ll bet that you’re not at all surprised to know that I brought some poetry along on my weekend excursion with Friends. Fortunately, the weekend offered plenty of time for silent contemplation and poetry reading!

    Mid-morning on Sunday I came across the words below. After digesting them for awhile I found some yellow daisies growing on a nearby bush and I picked one to wear behind my ear. I probably should have left it on the plant for others to enjoy, but I do have such a weakness for wearing flowers in my hair.

    An excerpt from “Daisies” by Mary Oliver:

    …What do I know.
    But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,
    to see what is plain; what the sun
    lights up willingly; for example–I think this
    as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch–
    the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the
    daisies for the field.

    Previous Mary Monday entries

  • a good hair day

    Midday yesterday a neighbor dropped by for a neighborly chat (more specifically, she brought her pathology textbook so I could ogle the osteosarcoma x-ray images). I apologized for how I was dressed when I came to the door, explaining that my beachy clothes were rather soggy because I’d just gotten home from paddling with a teammate. Then John poked his head around the corner, he also damp and shirtless. He’d just stepped out of the shower. We joked a bit about the silliness of us both being home mid-day in a state of deshabille…

    The truth is that we met for lunch so I could cut his hair–so he could look just a bit less mangy-Neil-Gaiman and a bit more GQ. I’m not the world’s best hairstylist, but I’ve been cutting John’s locks since we were first dating. There’s little else that I love more than plunging my fingers deep into his dark curls (and for those who’ve ever heard the story of how we first met, you know that that lovely head of hair was what first caught my eye).

    So last night when I was at the Regina Spektor concert, I was so glad that she played Samson in her encore set…because it’s long been a song that reminded me of John–there’s something so powerful about his lovely hair, if only because it’s just one of those many things that make my heart melt whenever he steps into view.

    PS: I’m glad he passed the hair genes on to at least one our kids. Methinks the world needs more good hair like his.

  • Mary Monday: on beauty and god


    this crab has leopard spots, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    On Friday I shared a favorite poem, “Pied Beauty”, with friends. It was the first time I’d read it aloud since college and I’d forgotten the spell of Hopkins’ words:

    Pied Beauty

    GLORY be to God for dappled things—
    For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
    Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
    Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
    And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

    All things counter, original, spare, strange;
    Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
    He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
    Praise him.

    As I traveled this weekend to speak at a conference and spend time with friends (such beautiful souls), I stayed up far too late and awoke early each morning. Despite that, I was rarely exhausted–as I was absorbing the energy of everyone around me, infected with the excitement of hearing their stories. I suspect that my travel-mania and joy in having new adventures is as potent as any drug…

    Revisiting my Mary Oliver this morning, the prose poem “West Wind” resonated with me. This weekend I listened to tales of many spiritual journeys. Tales of joy, abandonment, fear, ambivalence, faith and struggle. Some were hard for me to hear as they hit so close to home. Others reminded me that my journey is unique among many paths. And thus, Mary’s words about the pull of an embodied god feel so true this morning…

    And the speck of my heart, in my shed of flesh
    and bone, began to sing out, the way the sun
    would sing if the sun could sing, if light had a
    mouth and a tongue, if the sky had a throat, if
    god wasn’t just an idea but shoulders and a spine,
    gathered from everywhere, even the most distant
    planets, blazing up. Where am I? Even the rough
    words come to me now, quick as thistles. Who
    made your tyrant’s body, your thirst, your delving,
    your gladness? Oh tiger, bone-breaker
    oh tree on fire! Get away from me. Come closer.

    Picture above is the shell of a crab from a ramble on the beach in Cape Cod. I loved how every detail of this shell was so artful–how the closer I got, the more there was to see. And now that I’m home, the pull of the ocean is so strong I can hardly sit in my chair to write…

  • Mary Monday: The Poet With His Face in His Hands


    a park, in winter, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    I’ve decided to start a new blog feature, “Mary Monday,” where I will feature an excerpt of a Mary Oliver poem with an accompanying photograph. I will probably branch out beyond Mary occasionally, but for right now I’m so thrilled by her poetry I think I could spend quite a long while focusing on just her oeuvre.

    excerpt below from “The Poet With His Face in His Hands”

    You want to cry aloud…
    But to tell the truth the world
    doesn’t need any more of that sound.

    So if you’re going to do it and can’t
    stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can’t
    hold it in, at least go by yourself across

    the forty fields and the forty dark inclines
    of rocks and water to the place where
    the falls are flinging out their white sheets…

    and you can stand there, under it, and roar all you
    want and nothing will be disturbed.

  • uprising

    This song came on the radio the other night as I was driving home from a particularly difficult meeting. Ever since then I’ve noticed that it’s popped up on my radio or playlist just at the moments that I’ve most needed it. I especially love the chorus:

    They will not force us,
    They will stop degrading us,
    They will not control us,
    We will be victorious

    This song is a bit more militant than much of the music I tend to enjoy, but the drums kick and I do love me some drums. Full lyrics are below…(Note: the video is a bit odd. I suggest you close your eyes as you listen and just let the energy of the song wash over you…)

    Uprising by Muse

    Paranoia is in bloom,
    The PR transmissions will resume,
    They’ll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down,
    And hope that we will never see the truth around
    (So come on)
    Another promise, another scene,
    Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed,
    And all the green belts wrapped around our minds,
    And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
    (So come on)

    They will not force us,
    They will stop degrading us,
    They will not control us,
    We will be victorious
    (So come on)

    Interchanging mind control,
    Come let the revolution take it’s toll,
    If you could flick a switch and open your third eye,
    You’d see that
    We should never be afraid to die
    (So come on)

    Rise up and take the power back,
    It’s time the fat cats had a heart attack,
    You know that their time’s coming to an end,
    We have to unify and watch our flag ascend

    They will not force us,
    They will stop degrading us,
    They will not control us,
    We will be victorious

  • I simply go on drifting…


    Cape Cod hydrangea in the morning, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    An excerpt from Mary Oliver’s “What is There Beyond Knowing”

    What I know
    I could put into a pack

    as if it were bread and cheese, and carry it
    on one shoulder,

    important and honorable, but so small!
    While everything else continues, unexplained

    and unexplainable. How wonderful it is
    to follow a thought quietly

    to its logical end.
    I have done this a few times.

    But mostly I just stand in the dark field,
    in the middle of the world, breathing

    in and out. Life so far doesn’t have any other name
    but breath and light, wind and rain.

    If there’s a temple, I haven’t found it yet.
    I simply go on drifting, in the heaven of the grass and the weeds.

  • have you ever….

    While working this morning, this song came up on Pandora and I just loved it. I thought you might want to take a listen, too. I love how Carlile captures the magic & wonder of strolling through nature–perfectly appropriate for my pilgrim soul.


    Have you Ever?
    Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods?
    And everything there feels just as it should
    You’re part of the life there
    You’re part of something good
    If you’ve ever wandered lonely through the woods
    if you’ve ever wandered lonlely through the woods

    Have you ever stared into a starry sky?
    Lying on your back you’re asking why
    What’s the purpose I wonder who am I
    If you’ve ever stared into a starry sky
    Have you ever stared into a starry sky

    Have you ever been out walking in the snow?
    Tried to get back to where you were before
    You always end up not knowing where to go
    If you’ve ever been out walking in the snow
    If you’d ever been out walking you would know.

  • For the love of you…

    Cross-posted on The Exponent.
    mon cheri

    I really needed this poem today. So for the love of you, I share it here, along with a few recent garden pictures. :)

    For the love of a tree, she went out on a limb.
    For the love of the sea, she rocked the boat
    For the love of the earth, she dug deeper.
    For the love of community, she mended fences.
    For the love of the stars, she let her light shine.
    For the love of spirit, she nurtured her soul.
    For the love of a good time, she sowed seeds of happiness.
    For the love of the Goddess, she drew down the moon.
    For the love of a good meal, she gave thanks.
    For the love of family, she reconciled differences.
    For the love of creativity, she entertained new possibilities.
    For the love of her enemies, she suspended judgment.
    For the love of herself, she acknowledged her worth.
    And the world was richer for her…..

    ~ Charlotte Tall Mountain

    butterfly on <br />heliotrope” /></a></p> <p><span style=Photos: Top photo is a close-up pic of a deep pink and red rose. Bottom pic is a closeup of an orange and black butterfly with wings spread, sitting on a helitrope bush with bright green leaves and purple flowers.

  • a bit of poetry

    Maddie’s pic with accompanying Neruda poem so inspired me yesterday. I’m realizing that I’m hungry for poetry right now. Do any of you have a good verse to share with me?

    :)