Tag: Poetry

By Whichever Wind

On By robertalanrifeIn Words...always words1 Comment

For whatever reason, I don’t post here much these days. Lack of inspiration? Maybe, a little. Laziness or neglect? Perhaps, a little. Distracted by other things? Sure, a little.

So, when inspiration comes, it rests on me to act upon it. That inspiration comes by way of this rather evocative piece by Hong Kong poet, Sean Kwok, now relocated to the Scottish Borders. It can be found in the 2024 edition from The Scottish Book Trust entitled: Hope. Contributions feature stories, anecdotes, and poetry highlighting elements of hope. I share the author’s note below in that regard:

I was fortunate enough to have relocated from Hong Kong to the Scottish Borders exactly at a time of political turmoil in my home city. Then the pandemic engulfed the world. When I stopped on a walk on a rather windy day, I made a connection with the wind. It was of course the wind that accompanied my flight to Scotland; so too were the ‘winds’ of historical circumstances and perhaps even a coincidence of timing. I felt guilty for having to abandon my old home and did not readily embrace my new home, yet despit the lockdown, fellow Borderers have generously befriended me. I saw that the idea of home need not be tied to land boundaries but can simply come from the heart, strengthened by connections between people, wherever we come from and wherever we shall go. The transformative aspect of home, like wind, renews my hope that humans can forge better days for each other.

It is with pride I share here his poetic ruminations on the same.

By Whichever Wind

Why do we keep moving, every generation a restless hand?

Some came by boat, others spirited by waters alone.

They kept their heads low; the skies took to our land

and made us whisper their parting promise.

I went atop the winds of fate

predicated by history and always

doubting, an island of distress

too busy casting the flag of freedom to the flame

than to see me go, as if to dry our tears.

I crossed the oceans of a thousand fears,

embracing neither pride nor pain

as I switch to a higher address.

Too accustomed to the ruins of a home away;

too much paperwork on our petite plate.

Memory serves as a chalice untouched by day

yet as infectious as a laugh in duress.

I felt the peace of night a lifetime’s gain

won by those I failed to offer but a voiceless cheer.

But there is more I can claim as my ain

as I find others who have been oppressed no less

by the walls of their house and still take time to play.

To the tune of the Tweed, you vow to confess

surprise at ever sunset, to bear an open heart again.

By whicher wind, you’ve carried your truth and let me fly mine

for both homes share the borders of my heart.

Wherever and wherefore I came and am to go,

I promise to follow the winds of life,

for nothing is more undecided,

than whatever our tomorrows would bring.

And we have much we can do together.

A poem a day

On By robertalanrifeIn Waxing PoeticLeave a comment

I first posted this as part of a November challenge last year to post, you guessed it, a poem a day. This one plays a bit on the rigours of farming – reeping and sowing – and its seeming ironies and impossibilities. Much like producing…a poem a day!

A Poem a Day

The wordsmith’s challenge: to produce a fully grown garden

in less than 24 hours. Plow down deep, furrough’d in sweat

and the searing summer sun baking whatever it touches.

Cast out fistfulls of seed into the shifting wind and coarse ground

where time and chance and powers above and below

cast out their wills or ills upon your tiresome toil.

–

An ankle turned, the back of the neck red, raw, pealing.

Old machines not meant for new work

retain their eccentricities despite your mechanical interloping.

Tender, anxious words spoken upon docile dirt,

your antediluvian blessing

meant to caress or careen a spark to light a fire all

too easily snuffed.

You trade your peace for her pregnancy.

–

Let loose your prayers for weather and time and the

vagaries of hope, if only to see once more

the perfection in a tiny handful of wheat.

–

Now, do it again tomorrow.

Thank you, Mr. Lawrence

On By robertalanrifeIn Sanctus, Theology / Spirituality1 Comment

I have a new spiritual director. Her name is Lynn. She is a most perceptive lady, especially given how much I adore poetry. After our most recent spiritual direction session, she was compelled to send me this by way of follow up. Two things: find yourself an anam cara; a professional spiritual director or at least someone you trust to walk with you as you both walk with God. Secondly, look for the sacred in narrative and poetry. Next to creation and sacred writ, it is often the most meaningful manner by which the God of creation speaks to our souls.

So then, Lynn, thanks for listening so attentively.

Thank you, Mr. Lawrence for this poem which has always been a favourite.

Lord, thank you for both!