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Posts Tagged ‘Men and Spirituality’

A New Poem for Monday: Radical Forgiveness

August 5, 2024 Leave a comment

I have not written here in a while because I have not written any poetry in a while. For this I forgive myself and hope you will forgive me too.

I’m working with a new and fun oracle deck, “Guides of the Hidden Realms Oracle” by Colette Baron-Reid. Yesterday I drew “The Alchemy of Poison” – here’s the image:

So you can see where I got the title of today’s poem; and my question.

I have been receiving multiple signs and messages that I have been neglectful in not writing. So to deepen my exploration of “radical forgiveness” I wrote about it and turned my musings into this simple answer:

Radical Forgiveness

What is “radical forgiveness?
I think it’s finding forgiveness for everything—
All misdeeds,
All slights and oversights,
All mistakes from the past, now, forever;
All times, events, actions
When I have missed the mark,
Fallen short,
Left so much undone.

All this applies to
All around me who are
Falling short as well,
Whether toward me or
Toward others, or
Toward themselves.

Radical forgiveness is a practice
To repeat over and over again.
It is not for the one slight,
One time; it is for
All slights for
All time.
Weekly, daily, moment to moment,
Practice radical forgiveness.

©2024 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

Happy Poetry Month!

April 4, 2024 Leave a comment

So, this was fun: Laura Di Franco, to celebrate National Poetry Month, is hosting a series for her authors, especially those of her compilation, “100 Poems and Possibilities for Healing” to read a poem from the collection. Here’s my recording with her where I read “A Speculation on Perfection”

A Saturday Poem for February 17, 2024

February 17, 2024 1 comment

Hello, Friends! I’ve missed being here with you. I’m back for a bit, who knows how long. Today’s poem touches on this.

Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday; he would have been 103. And I visited a dear friend who is in a rehab center and in hospice care. He seems to be slowly slipping away not unlike how my Dad left the earth plane. I wrote in my journal when I returned from that visit and this poem kind of fell out as I reviewed the day and thoughts and lives I touched. Don’t worry, it’s not melancholy. See if you can slip into a sweet place with this:

Long Life

The comings and goings,
The rises and falls
Are endless–
Part of the pattern of the flow
Of consciousness.

And the flow is just now,
And only now.
Just this: the slow,
Long vibration
of All and Nothing.

Just this: It is an
Infinitely long and
Infinitely short vibration
Of Empty Allness.

It is so slow it seems
To be fully at rest.
It is so fast it seems
To disappear into that
Emptiness from which it
Arises now.

It is the quick “hello”
And the long “goodbye”
All wrapped in the
Blessed bliss of
This.

©2024 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

I’ll be a published poet in January 2024!

December 13, 2023 Leave a comment

In September I and 30 other author/poets began collaborating on a new book: “100 Poems & Possibilities for Healing.” It will be published soon by Laura Di Franco and her company, Brave Healer Productions: https://www.facebook.com/BraveHealerbyLaura/

I look forward to sharing with you the excitement around this book! To begin here is a video interview with me and three of my co-authors from earlier this week. Enjoy and please share!

New Year poem: “New Year”

December 29, 2022 Leave a comment

I received two great books for Christmas: “Cosmogenesis, An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe” by Brian Swimme, and “The Dao De Jing, A Qigong Interpretation” by Dr. Yang, Jwing Ming. They are both excellent and have my mind swirling around the center-point of “being/not-being.” What is this life, this consciousness, this reflection of the material, manifest creation back on itself, all about?

So here’s my reflection on time as it slips through our consciousness at an ever, seemingly, faster pace. Happy 2023 to you all!

New Year

They say it all began with a bang.
Somehow the ISST blew up:
What Hawkings named, inelegantly,
The Initial Singularity of Space-Time.

Out of nothing, Sunyata, Wuji, Dao,
Came something, Rupa, De.
All manifest reality—boom!
And we were there.

One outward pulse pushed the Universe
Through the black hole of emptiness.
Echoes of that birth reverberate
In every birth, breath, beat, death.

Every twitch, tick, ebb, flow, cycle
Marks a memory of that first pulse.
Every calendar change by sun or moon,
Reminds us it is always a New Year.

©2022 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

Old Moon poem: “Heart Sutra Vibe”

June 28, 2022 Leave a comment

I’ve been absent from this blog for too long. My muse has been asleep. Although I write nearly every day there hasn’t been much to stir the creative sap in this old tree. But here we are in old moon energy and somehow that dying moon stimulated something; it feels like an itch. So I scratched it!

The background on this is the Gene Key we find ourselves in with this old moon energy, it’s #52 which Richard Rudd calls “The Sill Point.” This whole system of “Human Design” is based on the I Ching, which you may recall from a number of entries in this blog I refer to for guidance and deeper understanding. The 52nd gate in Human Design, or Gene Key in Richard’s The Gene Keys corresponds to Hexagram 52 in the I Ching; the Gua for 52 is Mountain over Mountain (Gen) which translates to “keeping still.”

So, enjoying this image of stillness, keeping still, the still point, this is the verse that came to me:

Heart Sutra Vibe

Picture a plucked string:
See it vibrate to invisibility,
Moving from something to nothing:
Beyond sound,
Silent stillness.

Picture a still string:
See it stretched to stillness,
Its potential waiting, surrendered:
Beyond sound,
Silent stillness.

There is something in that stillness:
A waiting note not yet heard,
An emptiness filled with hope.

There is nothing in that high vibe:
A note beyond hearing ear,
A form, a new song of hope!

©2022 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

A Poem for Saturday, and the times: “What Might Have Been”

August 28, 2021 1 comment

I’ve been quiet for a while during our shutdown, shut-in, staying much more within. Maybe my muse has gone inward as well to reflect. And while it might be tempting to begin to emerge from the inner work, to venture into the wide world again, I’m not sure it is time yet. We remain cautious, immune systems strong but not over-taxed. We remain comfortable and well on the inside!

But there are other ways to reach out; my muse is beginning to rise and wonder what it’s all about. Richard shrugs with concern, some frustration, deeply puzzled about the meaning of so much foolishness. Perhaps the muse has a bit of an answer:

What Might Have Been

The passing of a friend, a brother, a lover
Leads deeply to a pondering:
What might have been.

Wars ending in retreat, defeat, chaos
Demand the heart/mind to question:
What might have been?

Sickness, disease, pandemics
Force reflection on community;
What might have been!

Separation, polarization, fear of other
Rend the heart and soul; I wonder
What might have been…

Anger, resentment, frustration with what is
Soften in contemplation:
What might yet be!

©2021 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

A Winter Solstice Poem: My Life as a Poem (revised)

December 23, 2020 1 comment

Revision: As I reviewed this post sorting through my word docs and rereading the poem (reviewing my life!) I realized I had left off the last verse (a cut and paste error)! So I have added that verse back in. How could I forget “love”? The poem (my life) is now complete.

In October I wrote “My Prayer” in the form of a poem. These words have stuck with me; they pop into my mind frequently during the day as I practice life. So I’m not surprised at this reprisal, an echo of that prayer as I wrote this poem on the Solstice and Conjunction.

My Life as a Poem

Waking to my day, a new page,
The threads of a dream drift away
On the winds of another life,
A poem gone now, glimpsed, forgotten.

Today a new dream begins, a new
Story of my own creating,
Speaking to the future, trusting in
The worthiness of these words.

Practice, it all begins and ends there.
Story is practice, a moving toward
Perfection, evolving with a rhythm;
Sometimes involving a rhyme.

With repetition the story evolves
Into a poem: my life as a poem.
For slips and slights I practice
Forgiveness – changing my perception.

Sometimes the words don’t come,
Resisting the page refusing to flow.
For the hesitance, the lurches I practice
Patience – waiting on the muse.

Regretting all that I have lost, resenting
What has been taken or misplaced;
For the destruction and death I practice
Praise – remembering life is ecstatic!

The suffering millions weigh heavily on my heart;
Stafford got it right when he said:
“The darkness around us is deep.” I practice
Compassion – wanting to save with my words.

These words may not be worthy as those of
The Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon. Yet, I read
And weep and rejoice and sing. And I practice
Wisdom – moving toward the light.

For all the grace, the wisdom, the compassion
I reach for words to reflect the deep.
I look up at the moon and practice
Gratitude – knowing they’ll appear complete.

At the end of the day, practice done
I realize I have one more line to
Write, one from my heart; and I practice
Love – the Love Poem of My Life.

 

 

 

©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

A mid-week poem: Falling

October 6, 2020 1 comment

I have been absent from this blog for too long. I’ve missed the writing. I still write my “morning pages” almost every day but the poetry isn’t coming; lots of titles and ideas but little inspiration. There is so much chaos out there right now; it’s difficult to make sense of it!

So, I am falling!

Falling

Equinox behind, beyond balance,
Nights grow longer, shadows deepen.

Already inside, isolating, avoiding;
The waiting for darkness somehow soothes.

Breathing slows, drops, lengthens;
Eyes close, focus softens, turns inward.

An easy scan, toes to nose, body subsiding;
This is an inside job now; just breathe, be.

The falling isn’t downward but inward,
Into that core of self, being.

The gyro at the base of that core spins;
It stabilizes giving the body purpose.

Rest, be easy, let in the light;
No shadow here, on the inside.

 

 

 

©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

Friday’s poem, third in the trilogy this week: “Next”

July 24, 2020 Leave a comment

I’m sitting here, all in white with my mantra and mala beads, fresh from the first day of “retreat” with Deva Premal & Miten and Manose. I’m feeling very mellow, connected, in a deep state of peace. And, yes, almost like this is “Next.” Rosemary and I are in retreat within the Gayatri Sangha for seven days, every day at 1:00 pm EDT. The energy that Miten is invoking for us each of these days is that of “Compassion, Forgiveness and Gratitude.” These are deep blessings for all of us to bring peace and joy into our lives! May it be so for you. May this be the next step for humanity!

Next 

When I stop long enough to dream, to
Consider what comes next—there hovers
At the edge of my perception a
Disturbance in the air, a blur, a rush—

It’s like the invisible whir of Hummingbird
Wings; little tornadoes just beyond—
A flicker at the corner of eyesight,
A glint of movement too fine to be.

I wonder what higher consciousness looks like.
Is it a monk sitting silently on a cushion in a corner?
Is it even a human form available to five senses?
Perhaps it is that disturbance at the edge, beyond.

I cannot linger here for long in a conscious state,
Exploring this edge of what remains real.
I drift into a different dream and shift in shock
To wonder: Is this fluttering vibration a next me?

 

 

 

©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

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