Another poem we looked at yesterday during "Poetry and Preaching" --
By Denise Levertov
O Taste and See
The world
is not with us enough.
O taste and see
the subway Bible poster said,
meaning The Lord, meaning
if anything all that lives
to the imagination’s tongue,
grief, mercy, language,
tangerine, weather, to
breathe them, bite,
savor, chew, swallow, transform
into our flesh our
deaths, crossing the street, plum, quince
living in the orchard and being
hungry, and plucking
the fruit.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Poetry and Preaching
An amazing day--worshipful, quietly powerful, filled with surprising insights and fresh perspectives. I spent the day at United Theological Seminary of the Twin Cities attending "Poetry and Preaching" led by Sam King. Just wanted to pass along my THANK YOU in a public forum for the seminary, the class, and Sam King; along with her bio; and a poem that "rocked my world" today. And, one more thing, also attending the class was Pam Wynn, author of Diamonds on the Back of a Snake.
Susan Deborah (Sam) King teaches
writing at various institutions including the University of Minnesota
and the Loft Literary Center. Formerly a Presbyterian minister and
psychotherapist, King leads retreats on creativity and spirituality
and is the author of Tabernacle: Poems of an Island, One Breasted Woman, and, her most recent publication, Bog Orchids: Island Poems.
A poem by Kathleen Patrick
Commuting
I think of you
When I am driving in my car.
This poem can be found in this most excellent poetry anthology:
Commuting
I think of you
When I am driving in my car.
On the way to work,
Picking up something at the grocery store,
Rushing for a quick workout.
There are other times, yes,
But the car is where you are closest.
You sit somewhere behind me, your voice
Not really there, but I can imagine it.
And when you laugh, I feel it
Through my chest and stomach;
You laugh more now.
You seem perplexed.
How could things have gotten so muddy?
Family slipped away,
Days rolled over to years,
Too many angry words
Said in haste.
But, mostly, I feel you smiling
When I recall the part of the past
That was worth photographing.
And when something has gone well
In my day, you seem to be there,
For the ride home,
Telling me how proud you are,
How you always knew I had it in me.
Picking up something at the grocery store,
Rushing for a quick workout.
There are other times, yes,
But the car is where you are closest.
You sit somewhere behind me, your voice
Not really there, but I can imagine it.
And when you laugh, I feel it
Through my chest and stomach;
You laugh more now.
You seem perplexed.
How could things have gotten so muddy?
Family slipped away,
Days rolled over to years,
Too many angry words
Said in haste.
But, mostly, I feel you smiling
When I recall the part of the past
That was worth photographing.
And when something has gone well
In my day, you seem to be there,
For the ride home,
Telling me how proud you are,
How you always knew I had it in me.
This poem can be found in this most excellent poetry anthology:
The Wind Blows, the Ice Breaks: Poems of Loss and Renewal by Minnesota Poets
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