stacegens

Hold the question, until you live into the answer ~ Rilke


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This way, my love

When I’ve forgotten how to Pray

And the words won’t come

Give me two,

Forgive me

 

When my heart searches for

The comfort of gratitude, but

My mind invades the space with

Judgment

Despair

And angst

Give me two,

Restore me

 

When loneliness threatens to

Imprison me

And the only color is gray,

When I’ve lost my way back from

the illusion of separateness,

her depths threatening to

Claim me

Give me two,

Receive me

 

When I forget, you point me to the poets

New England, Belfast

Caged or Free

Ancient, Asian, Greek

And my heart cracks open

Once again

 

There you are.

There I am.

 

And we sit

And I pray.


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Winter

Winter

Winter spirit, prolonged night, muted speaks

Walks with burden along her barren path

Wrapped in warm gray, while the ridged branch creaks

Blows bitter air about, releasing wrath

Transformed solemn worship song rising

Labor for fertile grounds desired change

Requests for her blessed authorizing

Silences, returned from eternal range

For her wisdom seeks but trust, less is lost

Replace evicted presence of peace sought

Reflect, to muse, to co-create the cost

Veiled souls landscape no longer distraught

Emerging threshold, world of between-ness

Coarse and tender, Winter Guardian bless.

 ~Anastasia