If you’d rather listen than read, simply click the arrow on the widget above and you’ll hear this post (plus a ping on my phone).
Wayfinding
If this world is the book of God,
it spins too fast to linger over
divine language, an oration we
miss, pointing its compass
beyond the horizon.
Alas, I find it’s not the needle
that moves, but me—spinning.
A revolving top or door swinging
on its hinges, undone by a breeze.
Now I choose, holding both compass
and view—poised on the day’s
threshold. Notice the dawn, read
creation’s lines and linger as the
path unfolds.
I am currently typing from a hotel in Manitou Springs, Colorado. The C.S. Lewis Writer’s conference is happening nearby in Colorado Springs and I’m meeting a Seattle friend there. The soul-filling is much needed for my writer brain right now. I came to be inspired and listen to people much smarter than me talk about things I love—poetry, music, enchantment, C.S. Lewis and more.
It is my first visit to this part of the country and wow, it’s beautiful and oh-so-different than the Pacific Northwest! Sunny and clear, and mountains all around. The higher elevation’s got my head a little fuzzy so I’ve been told (by my daughter) to drink lots of water. And go slow. And wear a hat.
I am not good at going slow. I blame it on the pandemic (such a convenient excuse; works for so many things.) But I do feel that the Zoom/virtual culture borne out of that time period is part of the culprit—book launches, interviews, classes and virtual small groups and on and on. The screen culture way of life has overstimulated my brain visually, number one, and number two, made it possible to do so many other things while you’re supposedly paying attention. There will be a study about this soon, I’m sure. We will all weigh in.
But I digress.
It’s funny. I wrote an entire book of contemplative poetry-Mining the Bright Birds-about what I heard and saw when I sat still and listened, paying attention to God’s creation around me. I paused to notice the birds or the way clouds moved across the sky or how light landed on my living room floor and wrote it out in verse.
I noticed light refracting in a bottle of olive oil, the way the trees changed through the seasons and God woke them up. The unfurling of magnolia blossoms, the joy of my grandchildren—much of the world around me had something to say and I responded with a poem, committing my thoughts to paper as I do.
My Spiritual Director recently offered me a way to look at each day, asking God, “What do you want me to see and to know?” She then encouraged me to keep my eyes and ears open.
And slow down. Saying it again for the people in the back.
Alas, I find it’s not the needle
that moves, but me—spinning.
Poetry as a Devotional
Many readers of Mining the Bright Birds1 have told me the poems in each section - Waiting Spaces, Tuning, Seasons, Wayfinding-have stirred them the way devotional reading would, causing them to pause and ponder and pray. The poems have resonated in a way that they could see what I was seeing and sense what God was saying. That has been a rewarding (and unexpected!) response.
Go back and read the poem above-Wayfinding. What words or phrases resonated with you? What is God saying? Record it somewhere or come back and share in the Comments.
Here’s your invitation
Let’s do this. Each week (God willing and something e l s e doesn’t catch my eye2), I’ll post a poem from one of my two books—Hearts on Pilgrimage: Poems & Prayers or Mining the Bright Birds: Poems of Longing for Home—and pose a reflective question or two.
THEN
Find an empty journal, or use one you have.
Sit for 5 minutes—FIVE— and ask the Lord to show you something. He is always speaking, get ready to listen.
Write down what comes to mind. It does not have to be a poem, of course. Then if you’d like, come back and tell me in the Comments what you saw.
BONUS: Over time you’ll have a collection of poems to put in a poetry notebook, if you choose. (I’ll craft a downloadable PDF for you to print).
I’m so grateful to be able to share what I love and offer a bit of learning in the process.
Thank you for being part of the Poetry & Made Things community.
You can purchase either of my poetry books at this link HERE on my Substack page.
The last few weeks I have shared a poetry teaching brainstorm with you—PoetCraft workshops—that would entail much preparation on my part and an investment of time and money on your part if you participated. After lots of prayer and counsel it has become abundantly clear at this time such an endeavor is not sustainable for me. Also, your time is precious—as a Free Subscriber, you still pay with your email address and your attention. To honor that I want to serve you, not overwhelm you by offering invitations, inspiration and information about poetry. There is a better way. I think today’s post is it.
I should add: This week for Paid Subscribers I posted my first video, a weekly Poetic Pause, where I read and share a poem—what I noticed, what I liked and a nugget they can learn from. Sort of Poetry Workshop lite. (You m i g h t have received it as a one time only free post. I’m not exactly sure all the ins and outs of Substack yet….) You should totally watch it.
Become a Paid Subscriber—there’s a button at the bottom of this email just for you.
Say hi to Tresta Payne for me! She's another PNWer (Oregon).
Jody, I enjoyed reading your poem. I am envious of your time in Colorado. I live in the state for 8 years in childhood and it is one of my favorite places. Enjoy your time there.