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Posts Tagged ‘Change’

A Sunday Poem: Don’t Let Their Throes Throw You

January 5, 2020 2 comments

It seems needed now…

Don’t Let Their Throes Throw You

Violence feels on the rise; state
Sponsored terror, murder is
At the door, our door!

Will it never end? Will the killing
Stop? The promised “new age”
Seems a distant dream.

Yet there are signs and wonders
We watch for, as planets turn
And Pluto returns with renewal.

Perhaps the step-up in violence is
One of these signs: the final throes
Of a dying age, expiring time—

For the ones losing power, losing
Their grip on the old ways. They
Hold tighter for a moment. But

Their days are numbered; their time
Is running. They have no vision.
Don’t let their throes throw you.

Throw off the burden of violence, hold
The vision of that New Age, and take on
The lighter load of love.

 

 

 

©2020, Richard W. Bredeson, all rights reserved.

A Poem to Celebrate the coming: “Winter Solstice”

December 13, 2018 Leave a comment

While many say “Jesus is the reason for the season” it was a season long before Jesus hit the scene. As with all of the Church holy days they are mapped onto ancient observations that may go back 100 thousand years or more.

I love the Winter Solstice for many reasons, but mostly for the return of the Sun (or Son if you will). After the three days around Solstice the Sun will rise again and begin the long climb to Summer Solstice.

Rosemary and I celebrate the Solstice as part of our Holidays. Happy Holidays to all, whatever and however you celebrate.

Winter Solstice

They say we are on a spiral journey;
We spin on the Mother,
Spinning around the Father,
Spinning at the edge of the Milky Way,
Wheeling through the fringe of the Verse.

The effects of this swirling seem small:
Summer Solstice spins through Fall
And on to deepening Winter as
Light recedes in lowering sky
And Spirit draws nigh offering Love.

The cycle is grounded in Mother’s core,
Energy following graceful traces of
Magnetic forces, lifting consciousness
Along soft grooves of innocence,
Natural paths for expanding vision.

Spiraling consciousness follows
These graceful lines of attracting energy,
Mapping courses for the transformations
Forever carrying us higher,
But never far away.

Earth bound and sky happy we rise
Ever seeking, always believing
There is more, we are more.
The season reminds the reason
We spiral on, lifting gradually.

We stretch our plastic minds,
Resisting brittle breakage
On our destined way.
Each turn reveals more, creates new
Perspectives, bigger dreams, exposing
Even so, the next turn.

Solstice deep to Solstice high
We spiral from choice to choice
Knowing the journey, seeing
Transformations from new heights
Learning more with every turn.

 

 

 

©2018, Richard W. Bredeson, all rights reserved.

Monday’s Poem: “Buddha Bells”

December 3, 2018 Leave a comment

I am working with Dr. Joe Dispenza’s material and meditations every day to continue my journey to myself. One of the tools Dr. Joe offers is to catch yourself when you fall into a habit you are working to change, come present and then say “stop” or “change” to yourself to break the behavior, thought and emotion associated with the habit. This technique really works and strengthens awareness in every moment – a goal of my journey.

I’ve added my own twist to this, imagining I hear a Buddha Bell when I catch myself, bringing me back to the present moment to breathe in gratitude and breathe out love. Here’s what I mean:

Buddha Bells

The Buddha Bell calls,
Reminding: return,
Come present to the breath,
Gratitude and Love.

Irritation flares,
A Buddha Bell there,
Calling back to breath,
Gratitude and Love.

Lack enters mind,
A Buddha Bell finds
The breath is still there,
Gratitude and Love.

The Han sounds: thwoc, thwoc!
Awakening: go back,
The Zendo calls home,
Gratitude and Love.

Bija Mantra sings,
A Buddha Bell rings,
Present moment calls,
Gratitude and Love.

 

 

 

©2018, Richard W. Bredeson, all rights reserved.

PS: Zane and I are exchanging poems every day as a seed for our initial WorldPoetsClub “wordshops” enterprise. Watch for some things we are collaborating on, including a collaborative collection of our work. I’ll announce coming attractions here, so stay tuned, especially all you poets out there!

 

Post Election Poem: “Cross the Weld”

November 7, 2018 4 comments

We seem to be heading into even more interesting times now that the mid-term elections in the US are behind us. Change is in the wind; change is always there for us and rather than fear it let’s take solace in it!

I’ve been working on this poem for several days, even soliciting thoughts from a poet colleague, Zane. Today’s poem is about the “weld.” My most esteemed teacher, Martín Prechtel, spoke often of the weld and its importance. The weld is a frontier, a border, a separation. It can be thought of as protection; it can also be a barrier. It can hold people out and also in. Since the southern border of the US has been so much in the news during this election cycle I believe it is time to examine how we feel about borders, about the Weld!

Cross the Weld

There is a place, a strip, an edge,
It separates, divides, demarcates
The end of civilization, domestication,
Bounding, binding, keeping at bay the wild.

This is the weld.

Beyond the weld is a place, a world
Of darkness, creatures, mysteries.
It is a forbidden place of barbarian myth
Holding, hiding, frightening all trespassers.

This is the wild.

But, what if the wild is pure potential,
Holding, hiding, disguising the future?
What if the weld is not a wall, but a mirror
Reflecting, revealing the truth of who we are?

Cross the Weld!

 

 

 

©2018, Richard W. Bredeson, all rights reserved.

PS: Zane and I are having fun together. Watch for some things we are collaborating on that may hook your interest. I’ll announce coming attractions here, so stay tuned, especially all you poets out there!

Friday’s Poem: Casting No Shadow

October 19, 2018 4 comments

[Warning: this poem contains a four-letter word that may offend some people. It is a word for material found in the bottom of a bird cage and rhymes with grit. If this word offends you please read no farther!]

I am fresh from the Christine Kloser event, known simply as “Breakthrough,” for Transformational Authors. I have known Christine and her event for several years; this one was her sixth; it was the first one I attended. And I can honestly say this was the best of all personal growth conferences, retreats and other such meetings I have ever attended! I did come away transformed in several ways. I will write more about this in a later post.

For now I want to offer this poem, dedicating it to Christine and all of the friends and fellow poets I spent three quality days with this week:

Casting No Shadow

Standing in the Center under high Sun,
Casting no shadow
I wonder:
Where has all that shit, my shit gone?

Earth, Mother, accepts it all
Composting it, the shit, into food:
Rooting soil
For the wonder and beauty of the lotus.

Facing East, bowing to the rising Sun,
Shadow stretching West
I wonder:
How far does that trail of shit extend?

Great Bear of the West doesn’t care;
His shadow absorbs all darkness
Sending life
Deep into the root and stem of the lotus.

Facing West, bowing to the setting Sun,
Shadow disappearing into the night
I wonder:
While the Mother sleeps, who stirs the shit?

The Great White Way of the night sky
Carves a graceful turn to churn
Rotting waste
Feeding the growth and awakening the lotus.

Facing North, bowing to the Great White Way,
Soft Moon shadows glowing in the night
I wonder:
How can shit survive this peace and beauty?

Cosmic Energy, creative power
Pumps the life-blood, pure potential
Filling mud
With juice to enliven the lotus bud.

Facing South, bowing to the warming Sun,
Shrunken shadow withering to the North
I wonder:
How can so much shit generate all this beauty?

Earth and Fire, Mother and Sun
Join in Holy Union, merging love and light;
Ascending we
Witness the opening, Jewel in the Lotus!

(Om mani padme hum!)

 

 

 

©2018 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

“Grow up America” – a new poem to celebrate the March for our Lives

April 2, 2018 Leave a comment

I did not march on March 24. But I watched the entire event, the moving speeches, the incredible crowds, the world-wide demonstrations for common sense. The leaders of this movement, the “kids” from Parkland, were amazing not just for what they said, not just for their poise and maturity, but for their leadership, their ability to motivate and move a crowd of 800,000 people in Washington, DC alone, to a peaceful gathering to bring attention and awareness that change is desperately needed to combat the violence this country grew up with and has accepted as a “right”! I was moved to tears many times as I watched and listened to the eloquent pleas for this change. I wrote this poem the following day to remember their lessons for the “adults” in the leadership of this country.

Grow Up America
(written on March 25, to remember the “March for Our Lives” in Washington, DC,
March 24, 2018.)

Follow the children;
They are leading the way;
They are marching for their lives.
Do we dare impede their call?

Grow up America!

The kids seek common sense;
Their asks are reasoned and sound;
They are marching for their lives.
Do we dare follow them all?

Grow up America!

What century are we in?
The Wild West was won, by some.
Do we need the violence of guns
To protect, prove, move, impede others?

Grow up America!

From infancy we protected and grew.
In adolescence we proved our power.
Can we now move beyond our childhood?
The children will not be impeded!

Grow up America!

A new age is dawning;
“The children will lead them.”
It is time to follow their lead, and
Grow up America!

 

 

 

©2018 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

Inauguration Day Thoughts

January 20, 2017 Leave a comment

Not so many words, just thoughts, and feelings:

Transfer of Power

The motor fires, turns, idles;
Yet there is no movement, no action
Until the transmission engages
To transfer power to the axles.

The wind blows, spins blades;
Yet there is no change, no traction
Until the mill turns generators
To transfer power to the grids.

The tides heave, ebb, return:
Yet there is no launch, no sail
Until the turn from full, to flow
To transfer power to the ships.

The trees stand, grow, clear air:
Yet there is no transition, production
Until the axe clear-cuts for lumber
To transfer power to building.

The government pauses, idles:
And there is no action, no change
Until the constitution orchestrates
To transfer power to the chief.

Fire, Wind, Water, Wood all transform.
Power is transferred into the Earth.
Chiefs go and chiefs return, no change.
The transfer of power remains.

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©2017 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.