Poetry

Perfection

the universe took its time on you

crafted you precisely

so that you could offer the world

something distinct from everyone else

so when you doubt

how you were created

you doubt an energy greater than both of us

 

Rupi Kaur

On Meeting Death

Tonight, Pluto, with the crescent moon as my witness,

I welcome you as my lover.

If you have come to break down my door,

See, I have opened it,

And wait for you at its threshold.

And if you have come to tear off my clothes,

I have flung them aside already,

And stand naked, shivering gladly.

If you have come to hurl me into the abyss,

Watch now, as I release all false supports, one by one,

And fall toward you in ecstasy.

Hear this, Pluto, lord of transformative fire:

What you have come to take from me, I offer you.

 

Jennifer Welwood

I am a lover without a lover. I am lovely and lonely, and belong deeply to myself. — Warsan Shire

Dragonflies

We are dragonflies suspended in the morning air

Moving quickly back and forth and back and forth again

Transformed from our youth we rise above the shallow lake

shimmering too much in the dappled sunshine

We zigzag across the mirrored surface

searching for a soulmate

Mile after lonely mile

until at last we fly in tandem

Full of grace and shine and light

we start the magical process again.

 

Caitlin Dundon

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves,

who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

 

Actually, who are you not to be?

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking

so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine as children do.

 

It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.

As we let our own light shine,

we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically liberates others.

 

Marianne Williamson

The Patience of Ordinary Things

It is a kind of love, is it not?

How the cup holds the tea,

How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,

How the floor receives the bottoms of the shoes

Or toes. How the soles of the feet know

Where they are supposed to be.

I’ve been thinking about the patience

Of ordinary things, how clothes

Wait respectfully in closets

And soap dries quickly in the dish,

And towels drink the wet

From the skin of the back.

And the lovely repetition of stairs.

And what is more generous than a window?

 

Pat Schneider