No Hard Feelings

When my body won't hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Will I be ready?
When my feet won't walk another mile
And my lips give their last kiss goodbye
Will my hands be steady when I lay down my fears, my hopes, and my doubts?
The rings on my fingers, and the keys to my house
With no hard feelings

When the sun hangs low in the west
And the light in my chest won't be kept held at bay any longer
When the jealousy fades away
And it's ash and dust for cash and lust
And it's just hallelujah
And love in thought, love in the words
Love in the songs they sing in the church
And no hard feelings

Lord knows, they haven't done much good for anyone
Kept me afraid and cold
With so much to have and hold
Mmm, hmm

When my body won't hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Where will I go?
Will the trade winds take me south through Georgia grain?
Or tropical rain?
Or snow from the heavens?
Will I join with the ocean blue?
Or run into a savior true?
And shake hands laughing
And walk through the night, straight to the light
Holding the love I've known in my life
And no hard feelings

Lord knows, they haven't done much good for anyone
Kept me afraid and cold
With so much to have and hold
Under the curving sky
I'm finally learning why
It matters for me and you
To say it and mean it too
For life and its loveliness
And all of its ugliness
Good as it's been to me
I have no enemies

I have no enemies
I have no enemies
I have no enemies

--Robert William Crawford (1971- ), Scott Yancey Avett (1976- ), Timothy Seth Avett (1980- ), of the Avett Brothers, from the album True Sadness, 2016.

Talking to Grief

Ah, grief, I should not treat you 
like a homeless dog 
who comes to the back door 
for a crust, for a meatless bone. 
I should trust you. 

 I should coax you 
into the house and give you 
your own corner,
 a worn mat to lie on, 
your own water dish. 

You think I don’t know you’ve been living
 under my porch. 
You long for your real place to be readied 
before winter comes. You need 
your name, 
your collar and tag. You need 
the right to warn off intruders, 
to consider my house your own 
and me your person 
and yourself 
my own dog. 

--Denise Levertov (1923-1997), Anglo-American poet, from Poems 1972-1982.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountain and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

--Mary Oliver (1935- ), from Dream Work, 1986.

Peace

Will you ever, Peace, wild wooddove, shy wings shut,
Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs?
When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite

To own my heart: I yield you do come sometimes, but
That piecemenal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows
Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?

O surely, reaving Peace, my Lord should leave in lieu
Some good! And so he does leave Patience exquisite,
That plumes to Peace thereafter. And whn Peace here does house
He comes with work to do, he does not come to coo,
                                      He comes to brood and sit.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), English poet and Jesuit priest

Prayer- Let nothing disturb you

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes,
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

--St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)

Every December Sky

Every December sky
Must lose its faith in leaves
And dream of the spring inside the trees.
How heavy the empty heart,
How light the heart that's full.
Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know
Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know.

We walk into Paradise;
The angels lend us shoes.
'Cause all that we own,
We'll come to lose,
And Heaven is not so far
Outside this womb of words.
With every rose that blooms
My soul is assured
It's just like a song I've known
Yet still unheard.

And every leaf of fire lets go,
Melting in the arms of earth and snow.
And if I could hold you now,
You'd enter like a sigh.
You'd be the wind that blows
The answer to "why?"
You'd be the spring-filled trees
Of every December sky.

--Beth Nielsen Chapman, Deeper Still, 2002