Saint Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell
July 8, 2010
The bud
Stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing
though sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on the brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as Saint Francis put his hand on the creased forehead of the sow,
and told her in words and in touch
blessings of the earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
throught the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart . . .
the long, perfect loveliness of sow
Has My Heart Gone To Sleep?
December 5, 2009
Has my heart gone to sleep?
Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel
of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty,
only shadow inside? [Read more]
The Journey
January 18, 2009
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice
though the whole house begain to tremble
and you felt the old tug at your ankles.
“Mend my life!” each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations, though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
But little by little, as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly recognized as your own,
that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do the only thing you could do –
determined to save the only life that you could save
So Fragile as We Grow
January 18, 2009
Someday you will hear all things applaud your wonder.
Life claps in awe of the Divine’s performance.
When your veil is removed, you, dear –
you, everyone — will see that your being is Holy.
Who would want to sand before a mirror that was shattered,
and thus distorts our beauty
that is so fragile
as we grow.
An oasis for all life the soul becomes
when it is unveiled.
How Did The Rose?
January 18, 2009
How did the rose ever open its heart and give to the world all of its beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light against its being, otherwise we all remain too frightened.
—Hafiz
