Showing posts with the label Lucille Clifton

Blessing the Boats (at St. Mary's)

by Lucille Clifton For my dear friend Bonnie Johnson. Please join me in praying for her safe passage between this and that. may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that bendición de los barcos (En el puerto de Santa María) por Lucille Clifton puede la marea que está entrando ahora mismo el borde de nuestra comprensión llevar a cabo lo más allá de la cara del miedo puedes besar al viento y después aparte de él seguro, confidiado de que te vas a querer igual. que puedes abrir tus ojos al agua ondeando el agua para siempre y que en tu inocencia vas a navegar a esto a aquello. Spanish translation by Ken Ireland For more of my poems, click here! Blessing of the Tuna Fleet at Groix 1923 , a painting by P

The Lesson Of The Falling Leaves

by Lucille Clifton With gratitude for the fall sesshin, October 10 th -17 th , Saint Dorothy's Rest, Camp Meeker. And thank you, Lucille Clifton, for the capping verse: The Lesson Of The Falling Leaves the leaves believe such letting go is love such love is faith such faith is grace such grace is god i agree with the leaves

The Beauty Of Hopelessness

Zen comments on the 12 Steps The koan, "Hsiang-yen: Up a Tree," case 5 of the Mumonkan. Today I find myself totally swept up in the hanging man's dilemma as I begin to re-work Step 1 of the 12 Steps. The Big Book puts the first step in simple, straightforward language: "I admit that I am powerless over … [alcohol, drugs, food, sex]—that my life has become unmanageable." It's just the first step on a journey, and in my case, there is a story connected with my personal surrender. Here is case 5 as my teacher, John Tarrant Roshi, presented it during a retreat . "Hsiang-yen: Up Tree" The priest Hsiang-yen said, "It is as though you were up in a tree, hanging from a branch with your teeth. Your hands and feet can't touch any branch. Someone appears beneath the tree and asks, `What is the meaning of Bodhidharma's coming from the West?' If you do not answer, you evade your responsibility. If you do answer, you lose your life.