I never write poetry
I wear berets often, but I rarely write poetry.
However, a few months ago I participated in a fascinating book study about the connection between our physical bodies and the Christian faith.
I can't remember much (I was seven months pregnant at the time), but I do remember a main concept of the book was "greening" or growing within our bodies. The author wanted us readers to view our bodies as something similar to a garden, something that grows and changes slowly depending on how we feed it/protect it/talk to it/challenge it. Pretty cool, right?
The book also challenges its readers to write a poem about stillness (a major component of meditation and the Christian faith), and so I did, never expecting to share it with anyone other than the women doing the book study. Until I saw this video:
...and it struck me how much the two things (my impulsive poem and this video) have in common. The words of those wise women resonate with me as I live this wild, precious life as a wife, new mom, daughter, sister, friend, and writer.
Perhaps this conversation (the need to "let go and just be") is one we should be having more often?
Anyway, here's my poem. I hope you like it.
On Mondays, especially, I wish…
to just be. To just wholly be. To just holy be. Like…
A dog on her favorite couch, tail fluttering.
A cat in the sun.
A green plant with new tendrils.
A baby in the womb.
I wish…for "chara" – delight in God, beauty, action, will, being.
The joy that lets you work or rest, succeed or fail, know or unknow.
The joy in being.