poem: somewhere between solitude and loneliness

 

poem: somewhere between solitude and loneliness

being here now in solitary existence
somewhere between solitude and loneliness
reflecting on recent events and experiences:
aging, disease, injury, separation, siloing,
the world and its totalizing systems

struggling, striving, sitting with challenges,
reconciling the grace of our being,
the preciousness of our life together,
and the amazing beauty of our Earth Home
with tender heart and teary eyes

busy, tired, and weary at times,
continuing at my task knowing
that we can bear it together
through connecting, belonging, and sharing,
grateful for authentic relationships and community

sitting quietly, listening,studying, reflecting, creating,
and connecting continue in this busy season of the suffering
arriving as an unexpected guest at my door,
each invited in and treated with truth and respect

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
June 21, 2022
art by Andrew Wyeth, ‘Christina Olsen, Triton’
Author’s note: I have struggled to write this, or anything else down, for over a
week. Knowing that sharing one’s suffering is very unfashionable in our
contemporary culture and society of everyone for themselves, I hesitate. I do not
share my poem from the perspective of being a victim, or a denier, or a masochist,
or from a place of apathy. Rather, I share from the perspective of witnessing,
better understanding, gifting, connecting, authentic belonging, and healing in the
tension of our suffering and our joie de vivre! The last three lines of stanza four
are after Rumi’s poem ‘The Guest House.”

poem: visions of hope, transformation, and manifestation

poem: visions of hope, transformation,
and manifestation

hooking one’s hopes on the egos
of humans and worldly events
crushes our souls

peace is denied at the tyrant’s whim,
human rights are ruled unconstitutional,
life, liberty, and happiness end at the point of a gun

we, in the world, not of the world,
Earth students, Spirit beings,
our hopes are set in shared visions

the diminution of ego of True Self,
the diminution of control of Authentic Being,
the diminution of personal power of universal Cosmic Consciousness

our visions of yes/and unity, wounded healing,
mutuality, beloved community, wholeness,
the way of the Cosmos

one’s authentic hope lies
in deep intuitive knowing, envisioning,
and faith in manifesting transformation

beloveds, be the change
shanti, shanti, shanti
thou art that

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry

May 15, 2022

poem: the peace of kindred spirits

poem: the peace of kindred spirits

beyond our struggles with sentimentality,
hubris, conceit, nostalgia; and subduing
our apathy, helplessness, and perverse
notions of suffering

manifesting our inner True Self,
coming to full fruition, joining
with others in the mutuality of belonging
together in authentic communities

realizing the deep knowing and peace
of meeting the other and connecting
as kindred spirits; two lost pieces
of a puzzle fitting effortlessly together

now the bigger picture beyond self
arising into relief and clarifying its movement
towards deeper and more inclusive
authentic, complementary wholeness

my deepest gratitude and appreciation
for you kindred spirits who see me,
and I, you, wounded healers all,
dear friends belonging in beloved community

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
May 12, 2022

art image unattributed

poem: her great nest of being

poem: her great nest of being

her eyes are heavy, head nodding
sun down, light fading
memories of a girl in wildflowers

the blue-eyed grass is in bloom
the wild garlic is growing
the lilies are budding

Earth Home in her rhythm
manifesting symbiosis
all creation included and connected

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
May 8, 2022

for Cathey

photos by author

Reflection: On Aging’s Bad Breaks 

Reflection: On Aging’s Bad Breaks 

My first two thoughts: we get plenty of ‘em, and aging is not for the timid. 

My beloved wife fell this past Monday and fractured her ankle. A stumble and a fall in the blink of an eye.  A good thing we were home, and she fell on the carpeted floor. 

It is a bad break to fall in the fragility of our aging, and breaking a bone is just plain bad anytime. After writing my poem for Cathey, ‘I got you,’ suddenly I did not as I was too far away to catch her. 

With the strength of our love, our deep trust in one another, and critically, a resilient sense of humor, we meet these challenges and those to come.  

I love what Anne Lamont recently said on her Facebook page about turning 68. After opining what is left for those of us aging who have witnessed the foolishness, evil, tragedies, and suffering of the world, she says: “So what does that leave? Glad you asked: the answer is simple. A few very best friends with whom you can share your truth. That’s the main thing”, and “we look up. In 68 years, I have never seen a boring sky. I have never felt blasé about the moon, or birdsong, or paperwhites.” 

Ah yes, in our aging, we cling to a few dear friends, sharing our truth and belonging, and looking up and around at the beauty surrounding us.  Please send prayers and healing energy for Cathey and a good recovery for her.

We send each of you our love, gratitude, and appreciation!