You'd Never Guess It, But I Like Poetry

It's funny, how life's choices sometimes take you away from some of the very things where you find LIFE.

Like being too busy doing things...important things like your job, your home, or paying the bills...or even very important things, like standing with the poor and powerless, in the infinite ways open to us. Too busy.

A short while back, a friend of mine gave me a book of poetry called "Love Poems From God," by Daniel Ladinsky. Nice book, given by someone whom I respect. I thought I'd never find time to open it, though, given that I already have countless magazines and books lying around, that I tell myself I'll get to "when things slow down a bit."

So, don't you know, it's LENT, and it's a time for slowing down. "Things" don't slow down, they never do -- you have to decide to slow yourself down. To breathe... to listen... to pray... Those are things which are not "things," which are not URGENT "things" (which somehow command our attention), but which are IMPORTANT things, which should command our attention.

So, poetry. I opened the book yesterday, and remembered. I started with a few poems by Rabia of Basra (c 717-801), of whom I had never heard before. She is "without doubt the most popular and influential of female Islamic saints and a central figure in the Sufi tradition." The book's short history said "it is believed she lived and was forced to work as one might in a brothel for many years. She wrote 'What a place for trials and transformation did my Lover put me, but never once did He look upon me as if I were impure.'" The next page, leading to her poetry, has only: "One day He did not leave after kissing me." After I read these, I was hooked, and had to read her poetry. I've only read a few pages so far -- poetry should be lingered over -- but would like to share these two.

I HOPE GOD THINKS LIKE THAT

There is a dog I sometimes take for a walk
and turn loose in a
field.

when I can't give her that freedom
I feel in debt.

I hope God thinks like that and

is keeping track of all
the bliss He
owes
me.


IT ACTS LIKE LOVE

It acts like love -- music,
it reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know
His promise: that all will be okay.

It acts like love -- music, and
tells the feet, "You do not have to be so burdened."

My body is covered with wounds
this world made,

but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,

"Could you also kiss the hand that caused
each scar,

for you will not find me until
you do."

It does that -- music -- helps us
to forgive.