Plato's Playground
Speechless, thank you for that lovely poem. I’ll add it to my poetry collection. As I tried to contemplate how to respond with something other than thanks (maybe I should have just stopped there) I recalled the poem below. I think the thought expressed in it is independent of gender. It speaks to a difference I see between the fundies, who in my opinion are too wrapped up in their own self-righteousness, and people like yourself and Janeboatler. I hope you find it to your liking.
Abou Ben Adhem by James Leigh Hunt
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An Angel writing in a book of gold:
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said A
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one who loves his fellow men."
The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!
Two beautiful poems. Quite evocative and inspiring. Lovely. Thanks for sharing them.
had to mull this over for a while. not to second guess you, but from my perspective you are more than qualified to go in. probably even a weaver of great skill yourself.
I think your work deserves a better presentation than a web page. I'd like to see it published in a well-made book. So much easier and more rewarding to pull down from the shelf and consult, to revist at will, sitting comfortably, comfortable to the eye and spirit.
Oy- your thougts and all are appreciated. Not trying to personalize this stuff, just trying to get across a sense of how this God thing is experienced & conceptualized beyond the usual forms. Still I appreciate your compliment here Cervantes. We who pen poems are all too grateful for readers, let alone such praise.
DPR- it was interesting imaging this poem, cause I found I got to a certain point, seeing so clearly outside the house, but as I imagined crossing the thresh-hold, all my own self-criticism came to the fore. In writing it, I wanted to pause and evaluate my misgivings & self doubt, both as a writer and as a person-- so I decided to let myself sit there, outside the doorstep and look at what I feared, and (having a sense of this warm wise and caring Weaver Woman) look too at what my experience within would likely be. So it became and affirmation both of my own fears misgivings and the unity which accepts, recognizes and frees me of those misgivings. I suppose the thi
I suppose the thing ought to stand for itself, but since our goal here is dialogue, I offer these thoughts on the process.
Gary, I remember reading that poem when I was younger, and being sort of blown away by the exotic quality of it. I think you've pegged me right though, my general mindset and condition is that of the Romantics. When I was in my teens I loved Keats and Wordsworth & early Yeats because of the meaningful universe they supposed in they envisioned. Now I'm older and appreciate their work, but not like I did back then.
Speechless, where does the poetry come from? The words just spill out of you. I have long been fascinated by how inspiration to write, compose, paint, or sculpt comes. I am not really asking for an answer here, I guess. You do have a gift, I believe, that derserves a wider audience. Your she-God or Goddess or Weaver-woman is so full of life, so earthy; she's wonderful.
Mater Gracia!
Yeah, it's like a different place in consciousness. You sink down. Give yourself to the earth. Listening. When the butterfly flits past, if you have your pencil sharpened, your paints and brushes ready, you may record her as she pauses on a flower. Like prayer, it's all a matter of mindfulness, and playing in the stream.
I've had a bit of time to think about your poem. Your Goddess is so unlike the conventional Judeo-Christian God the Father. A humble weaver in a hut -- no Heavenly Host, Cherubim and Seraphim bowing down, no Kingdom, no Golden Throne. It would be insanely inappropriate to build a Cathedral to worship this being, filled with gold candlesticks and processions of men in elaborate, archaic costumes.
I see this poem as personalizing your relationship to the universe. It is about meaning, not about belief in the everyday sense.
Interesting observations Cervantes. Indeed, I have such a strong sense of an intimate closeness with God--usually referenced for me through my sense of connection to Jesus, but just as powerful for me here in this poem as this weaver. But also a sense of God the creator and redeemer of all that is.
I am one of the people who writes the Prayers of the People for our church. We usually write 5-6 petitions, and the first is for the work of the Church. I find I often come up with a parallel construction, lifting upthe redemption of the sinful institution of church ( for this I often use images of the stone and iron buildings with the candlesticks etc) and lifting up also the work of the people gathered as church that it may be good a fruitful.
It seems to me that you are much more Quaker than you are Catholic. I am often puzzled by the powerful bond many people seem to have to a Catholic Church with which they disagree about almost everything. I used to work with a nun who was at least pretty close to believing that the Pope and most of the Cardinals and Archbishops were the minions of Satan, and maybe she did actually think that. So why did she consider herself a Catholic? I have the same question about all the Catholics here in Massachusetts who formed Voice of the Faithful and who have been treated like dung on the boots of the Archbishop. Why don't they just leave?
Ah there you are, there is a bond which I can't explain, something which holds me there. Something I longed for, hungered for before I finally accepted that I was indeed Catholic. Being baptised (though not raised) in the Church, and coming from an Irish American family, there was a lot that was Catholic in my world view from birth. It always was there, and is there still, inspite of the sins and failures of the church. The church is not God, is not Christ, though the people gathered in his name is indeed the body of Christ. The Catholic Church is, like a reliquary, a container for the holy. I'm not one of those who believes its perfect, but I like that my individual will doesn't really matter within the body of Christ. -- That's not a very full answer, but it's a start.
Well, the Church hierarchy thinks that it is more than that -- the official doctrine is that the Pope is infallible, that Catholics are required to believe in church doctrine, and that people do not have a direct relationship with God, priests have to mediate.
So, if you don't believe those things, as far as Karol Woztyla is concerned, you ain't Catholic.
Cervantes, I'm way late, andyou've probably moved on, but if you want some degree of a response to the issues you raise above, check out my Holy Thursday prayers. THey may give you some insight to the interior perspective of a practicing Catholic.
As for the supposed infalliblity of the Pope- that's a pretty weak argument against the church since it's only been a definite doctrine since late 19th century, and only happens when the Pope speaks with the full authority of his Holy Office, "Ex Cathedra" which, I've been told, has only happened once since the time the doctrine was established. I can say that in my reading of the work of this pope and earlier ones I've found a remarkable consistency in their teaching and wisdom. It doesn't always get translated very well, but the teaching of the Church is quite compelling.
Ok, gotta go. I'm off to protest the refusal to ordain women in the church (This is ordination day and we always protest.)
PS The Holy Thursday prayers are over here
durn...I give up on html for the rest of the...day anyway.
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