Category Archives: lament

poem: a season of loss

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poem: a season of loss
feeling the deep sting of loss
in this dark, wet, cold,
season of mid-winter


and yet, what personal hubris of one’s self


would tell someone to worry about the comfort


and safety of their own ego




only in the dark night of the soul


are we liberated from old attachments


and compulsions so that we love more freely




only with suffering can we


awaken to the deepest


compassion and wisdom of life eternal




and only in healing can one


know the complimentary, both/and,


unitive, full process of suffering




yes, here and now in the second half of life,


it is time to put away our childish ways,


and spiritually discern our falling upward




Herb Stone


here&now working poetry


January 27, 2023




photo by author “Home”




author’s note: the second line of the last verse is from 1 Corinthians 13:11. 
Richard Rohr has an excellent book titled, “Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the 
Two Halves of Life.”





























































					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: “maybe not being on the way is also the way”

			
						

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poem: “maybe not being on the way


is also the way”at one with life’s Cosmic Flow,

in the True Self and Authentic Nature

of all things here and now,

the way is eternally unending










our story becomes broken

when things become hard,

we pick and choose: ego erupts,

shadows creep in, suffering ensues


one feels they have lost the thread of life,

are off the path, are in exile,

lost in the dark night of the soul,

no longer walking towards home


maybe once on the way, there is no way

but the way; the conscious/unconscious,

engaged/disengaged, yin/yang,

wholeness of it all


“nothing goes away until it teaches us

what we need to learn”: isolation,

grief, loss, illness, doubt, heartbreak;

all are the way on the way


within the complementary tension of Cosmic

Flow, here is the Truth, Authenticity,

and Wholeness that guides us step by step

unending in the eternal way of all things


Herb Stone

here&now working poetry

November 19, 2022


author’s note: the title of the poem is a quote from the writing of Toka-Pa Turner.

The quote in the fifth stanza is a quote from the writing of Pema Chodron. I am

grateful to these two contemporary seers for their deep wisdom, writing, and

teachings which inspires me to reflect and write as I seek to know for my Self.


image: Cosmic Dust Flow, NASA Hubble Space Telescope


























No photo description available.



















































					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: a husband/caregiver’s lament

			
						

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poem: a husband/caregiver’s lament


speaking honestly now,

crying out into the silence,

seeking to project

understanding, hope, and healing

into the challenge of

giving care to a beloved


having no time

for platitudes,

sentimental claptrap,

and well-meaning advice,

these self serving idols

of comfort, security, positive-thinkers


do not tell me

about long goodbyes

and cruel diseases;

the stigmas of Alzheimer’s, and

its resulting isolation and lack of support,

are contemptible in our competitive society


and so we two, together here and now,

presently in our deathless love,

falling upward into this simple, sweet life,

sharing warm hugs, a deep mutual attentive

presence, and loving-kindness for all beings

in deep gratitude


Herb Stone

here&now working poetry

September 12, 2022


photo by author ‘Resting’ and “Here and Now”


Author note: I have labored to write this

piece for weeks in an effort to bring a balance

in the tension between living in a society

that does not value the aging resulting

in trite sentimentality, the isolation of individuals and caregivers,

and the lack of compassionate support and care, vis-a-vis

the reality of caregiver spouses and their

beloved with Alzheimer’s living and loving

with presence and attention together

here and now. Their is a great need for

everyone to better understand those living

with this disease and for more compassionate and accessible

support and care. Let us love one another!










 

					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: an economy of words

			
						

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poem: an economy of words


writing over a lifetime

one uses tens of thousand words

baring one’s innermost soul

to the light


words can collect like rain

in the lowlands

and burst forth

in a torrent


and words can be

hard to come by

hidden in the darkness

of stultifying events


one can be filled

to over-brimming

and one can be empty

to the core


now exiled on the high knob

in the dry desert

in hopes dark clouds pour

releasing the light of new life


Herb Stone

July 19, 2022

here&now working poetry


photo by author









					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: writing in time of pandemic, climate change, social injustice, tyranny, and gratitude for what matters

			
						

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poem: writing in time

of pandemic, climate change,

social injustice, tyranny,

and gratitude for what matters


writing from our home

in Nashville, where we

are under an excessive

heat warning all this week,

high humidity and temperatures


my beloved and I

both testing positive for COVID

for the first time and

quarantined at our home,

we are managing


writing this now,

my eyeballs hurt,

my fever is breaking

and I am covered in sweat

and trying to control a bad cough


tragically, we are inundated

daily with bad news of

gun violence, mass shootings,

and extrajudicial shootings

of young black men by police


and all this, not to mention,

the house hearings on the

criminal ex-45th. ‘president’

and his fascist, anti-democracy,

insurrectionist efforts to steal election


dear hearts, grateful for

all of you who have expressed concerns

and who walk this journey with us,

blessed to belong in authentic

community with you all


Herb Stone

here&now working poetry

July 7, 2022


photo by author





					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: somewhere between solitude and loneliness

			
						

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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.”





					

		
		
	


				
					
	

				
					
	

		

						
Reflection: On Aging’s Bad Breaks 

			
						

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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!




 


 

					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: the poet in times of war’s calamitous uncertainty

			
						

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poem: the poet in times of




war’s calamitous uncertainty


witnessing, entering the chaotic fray

with nothing but words of reality on the

ground and perennial truth of the ages


resisting the post-truth totalizing

systems of fascist lies and violence

of the powerful and controlling


oh, Liberty, perennially calling all

to live free of oppressive

tyrannical authoritarianism


bodily, directly, non-violently,

affronting the oppressor’s

indignities and injustices


with no assurance of personal safety,

soul bared, wounded healer,

lamenting, revisioning, transforming


more imaginative, true, authentic, holistic, just,

life-giving alternative counter dominant

cultural ways of being together in diversity


veritas vos liberabit


Herb Stone

here&now working poetry

March 24, 2022


Images: 1) ‘Ukrainian teacher bombed out of her apartment by Russians’ by Justin Yau/Sipa

USA, 2) ‘Maternity ward patient and her unborn baby killed by Russian attack on the hospital’ by Evgeniy Maloletke/ AP


Author’s note: ‘Veritas vos liberabit’ is latin for ‘the truth shall make you free.’


My poem is written a month after Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine and the continuing war resulting in approximately 5,000 Ukrainian civilian deaths, millions of refuges leaving their country, cities bombed to the ground, Russia commiting war crimes, and a very uncertain future for all. I wrote the poem remembering that poets through the ages have always been the bane of authoritarian tyrants, as poets, within the poetic tradition and the expressiveness of the poem, are prepared to reveal the darkness of war and tyrants, in ways that perhaps preachers, journalist, diplomats, heads of state, and others (except the survivors) are not able to do. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, poets are the only ones capable of articulating the transcendent nature of things by identifying ‘symbols’ and ‘emblems’ of the world. Thus we see a role of the poet as truth-bearer of the prophetic tradition.









					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
poem: a lament for when loss and chaos overwhelm us

			
						

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poem: a lament for when loss

and chaos overwhelm us


at times we find ourselves

struggling to follow that string

which runs in and through

the losses of old age, illness,

loneliness, and change, and

the worldly chaos of power,

control, violence, war, greed,

injustice, pandemics, and

calamitous uncertainty


trying to maintain hope

over the fear and anxiety

of personal and collective angst

rendering the mind

like runaway horses pulling

a chariot, the body like a

bag of bones, and the spirit

like a ghost, we are reduced

to a frazzled remnant of wholeness


until that time we turn around,

softly and gently opening our soul,

heart, and hands, carefully looping

that string which runs freely through

the loss and chaos of our lives

leading us to return to that place

which is our unchanging connection

to eternal Truth, Wholeness, and

Belonging


Herb Stone

here&now working poetry

March 14, 2022


image: block print, ‘Mary, the Untier

of Knots,’ by Kreg Yingst