Poem for a Sunday Morning

A Small Needful Fact {Ross Gay} Is that Eric Garner worked for some time for the Parks and Rec. Horticultural Department, which means, perhaps, that with his very large hands, perhaps, in all likelihood, he put gently into the earth some plants which, most likely, some of them, in all likelihood, continue to grow, continue

Poem for a Sunday Morning

February 16                                               An early morning fog. In fair weather, the shy past keeps its distance. Old loves, old regrets, old humiliations look on from afar. They stand back under the trees. No

#16 – You’ve Got it Better Than You Think

This is #16 in the series, “50 Ideas Worth Fighting For.” Here’s another one that I like a lot. I can’t remember when it was and I can’t remember who said it but the idea they expressed has served me well every time I’ve allowed my (mostly) “1st world problems” to get me down. It

Poem for a Sunday Morning

What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade  {Brad Aaron Modlin} Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas, how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took questions on how not to feel lost in the dark. After

Poem for a Sunday Morning

Dear Darkening Ground {Rainer Maria Rilke} Dear darkening ground, you’ve  endured so patiently the walls we’ve built, perhaps you’ll give the cities one more hour and grant the churches and cloisters two. And those that labor-maybe you’ll let their work grip them another five hours – or seven before you become forest again, and widening

Poem for a Sunday Morning

The Panther {Rainer Maria Rilke} His vision, from the constantly passing bars, has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else. It seems to him there are a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world. As he paces in cramped circles, over and over, the movement of his powerful soft strides is like

Poem for a Sunday Morning

Posted on the bulletin board above my desk are three poems I intend to memorize. The first among them follows here. Do yourself a favor and read it aloud. Once, at the dinner table with the family, I did exactly that and my young daughter broke into tears. The language is that precise and that

How Many Times Have You Died?

“I don’t know exactly what happened to me after that car accident when my blood pressure dropped precipitously low, and in the end, I realized that it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to solve it or explain it. Maybe I died, maybe I didn’t. I just don’t know. What I do know for sure is

Thank you, Mary Oliver

I am so thankful for the life and work of Mary Oliver and so sad to learn that she died on Thursday. Her poem, “The Journey” is the first thing I posted on this blog twelve years ago. Just yesterday, in an accidental feat of perfect timing, I published it again as the centerpiece of

Becoming a Person

I don’t want to start a philosophical or theological debate about this so let me offer a caveat at the outset: when I distinguish between a human being and a person I am distinguishing between the common accident of birth all Homo sapiens share and how some turn that accident into an intentional, conscious life. In my experience there