Category: Poetry

loved in Pure Land – awe
– four generations fam, friends –
fortunate – poof gone

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Gerard Sarnat is an American poet, aphorist, and humorist. His work has been widely published in journals and newspapers. He currently serves on the board of Climate Action Now.

This thirst for love,
is it a product of evolution
or a longing for home?

This yearning has seen me
chasing mirages and drinking saltwater
until dehydration became an identity.

Would this thirst be satisfied
if my childhood was well-watered
or I could draw from a well of relationships?

Or would my soul still pant
for water of a different kind,
a never-ending and life-giving source?

Do those who have drinks nearby
even realise they are thirsty?

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replanted
after Psalm 1

dig in deeper
to the river
running living water
my roots dive for
depth strives for
after dusty shallows
rocky fallows deserted
so I’m thirsting
from the working hard
to stay alive
and now it’s simple
to truly thrive
by the source
realigned with this replanting
though the uprooting
from familiar
mud dried up
shook the muck
from my feet and I
am replete
digging deeper
down
into
the river

— ℘ ℘ ℘ ℘ ℘ —

Prayer of a wilting tree
with Psalm 1

Is the stream in a lush
field of grasses and many trees
to surround this one replanted
for its hope for happiness?

Does the stream divert to the desert,
meet the tree half way in
this shift towards rebirth?

Holy One, if you are the stream,
I believe you will meet this
tree where I’ve fallen, my re-
planting a resurrection for restoration
of this wilderness with me.

And Holy One, if you are rich
earth, the field of green growth
in vital soil, I believe I’d like
to return, dig my roots in deep
and feed on your life-giving love
among the other replanted trees
you have rescued.

Show me what I need, Source
of Life, a stream to meet me,
in a distant field, or homecoming
to your good earth.
Amen.

— ℘ ℘ ℘ ℘ ℘ —

In the warming air
a psalm

Sun beams kiss the clouds white,
their linings, silver on a cobalt
canvas, pull cotton strings
to float my sinking heart.

That’s you all over, Creator,
isn’t it? Bouncing balloons across
horizons to evoke delight from even
the gloomiest of days;

it’s creation singing its silent
ode to you, is it not, turning
mourning cloths to dancing robes,
catching us all unawares.

It’s your notes the bees hum
when humans lose the tune;
your melody the wind runs
wild and free with the birds:

lift our hearts with yours,
all you trees, and fields crowded
with flowers singing – bring
us home into the Song.

℘℘℘℘

Image: Camille Brodard | Unsplash

Sarah Agnew is a storyteller, poet, and minister with the Uniting Church in Australia, in placement with Christ Church Uniting, Wayville, on Kaurna Land in Adelaide. Sarah’s poetry, liturgy, and other writing, including the Lenten Study with Psalms, Through the Valley, can be found at sarahagnew.com.au

Alive

if you still your heart
to hear the tales of ocean waves
if you lay your ear on a seashell
to learn the dance on a distant shore
if you open your eyes
and pay attention
to tiny stamens
with awe
if you sensitize your nose and echo
moods of rainforests
with reverence
if you breathe in deeply
and caress gumtrees
with gratitude
if you lengthen your antennae
and receive outpourings of
divine love and beauty
every part of you
awakened
attuned
alive

生机

如果你安静你的心
聆听海浪的故事
如果你把耳朵贴近在贝壳上
在遥远的海岸学习舞蹈
如果你睁开眼睛
并留意风中
那轻微抖动微小的花蕊
抱着敬畏之心
如果你让鼻子灵锐
和雨林的情态
相呼应
怀着崇敬之肠
如果你深深地呼吸
抚爱星辉包裹的胶树
带着感激之情
如果你延长触角
并领受神圣的爱与美
倾盆降下
你的每一部分
觉醒
谐和
生机

℘ ℘ ℘ ℘ ℘

A Sacred Space

weep and lament
loudly or quietly
but certainly
as much as you can
in the parched and weary land
a wilderness
a wasteland
where hope is no more
……

cracks start to open
tears spring up
from within
calling all
to sit and share
openly and honestly
letting fountains surge
from underneath desert land
……

a rainforest of greens
emerging
moisturizing
replenishing
enticing you
to play and dance
in rhythms and shades
of sunlit sprinklings

一个神圣的空间

哭泣和哀叹
高声喊叫或轻言细语
但肯定得
痛痛快快地
在干旱疲惫之地
一片旷野
一片荒地
希望已不复存在
……

裂缝开始张开
泪水源自内心
而涌出
呼唤所有人
开诚布公地
坐下来分享
让喷泉从沙漠的底层涌出
……

一片翠绿的雨林
冒出地面
滋润
补充
引诱你
在阳光洒落的节奏和色调中
尽情玩耍和舞蹈

XIAOLI YANG IS A THEOLOGIAN, POET, AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR. SHE LIVES AND PLAYS ON WURUNDJERI LAND AND IN THE MIDDLE KINGDOM. Some of her poems also appear here.

after Psalm 1

dig in deeper
to the river
running living water
my roots dive for
depth strives for
after dusty shallows
rocky fallows deserted
so I’m thirsting
from the working hard
to stay alive
and now it’s simple
to truly thrive
by the source
realigned with this replanting
though the uprooting
from familiar
mud dried up
shook the muck
from my feet and I
am replete
digging deeper
down
into
the river

℘℘℘℘

SARAH AGNEW IS A STORYTELLER, POET, AND UNITING CHURCH MINISTER. HER POETRY AND LITURGY APPEAR IN WILD GOOSE PUBLICATIONS AS STAND-ALONE E-LITURGIES, and IN EDITED ANTHOLOGIES. HER MOST RECENT PUBLISHED POETRY COLLECTION IS WHISPER ON MY PALM (RESOURCE PUBLICATIONS, 2022). SHE LIVES AND WORKS ON Kuarna COUNTRY.

As a woman, I gravitate to the stories of women in the scriptures. Women balance multiple gender roles and identity tensions. Their stories are often hinted at or mentioned in passing. We get glimpses rather than full narratives. Nevertheless, they are there, often unnamed or in the shadows. Unlike many of the other women, these women are named. They are queens who had highly vulnerable political positions.

Jezebel (from Her Foreign Majesties)

Reflected in the mirror, I wonder at my crown.
Who placed it there upon my maiden brow?
A princess of Phoenicia, so foreign to this Land
How can I live authentically in this state?

O Jezebel, how came you here?
What will you do?
What have you done?
Begone!

I did not choose to come here – sold by my tribe for peace…
I come as token gesture – a prize to be displayed
Today I’m claimed as Ahab’s queen, to mother his offspring
My body – chattel of the state – is not for me to own.

O Jezebel, who are you here?
Are you considered human?
Of are you simply of another
Man?

Makeda – Queen of Sheba

Love? No – maybe it was more of a curiosity …
A fascination with a legend.
I have had presented chiefs and princes …
The finest warriors and generals,
the richest men with the greatest lands.

I have no need to search,
But my interest has been aroused
by the tales of Wisdom.
What man is really wise?
Is there such a beast?
If so, might he be worthy of my attentions?

These days, I could be bored,
for my wealth is unsurpassed,
My lands are peaceful,
My realm is stable.

What more could a girl ask for?
I seek adventure … to travel to exotic places,
To meet interesting people …
To see this Temple of wonder
Being built for a single God!

Perhaps I will find more than sights to see?
Perhaps I will find a King worthy of a Queen?

Esther

Reflected in a mirror, I see my exiled face
Who gave me over to become a wife?
A Queen my Master made me – to people not my own
While mine are slaves and foreign to this place

O Esther, how came you here?
What will you do?
What have you done?
Beware!

I did not choose to be here – taken from my people – dispossessed …
I am prize of warfare – a prize to be displayed
Today I’m Queen of Persia – but silent is my role
Do I dare disobey the boundaries of my life?

O Esther, who are you here?
Can you be given voice before your King?
Do you have words
from another Lord?

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Amelia Koh-Butler is Minister, Eastwood Uniting Church, and is currently living on Wallamategal and Barramattegal Country of the Darug-speaking peoples.

to the waterfall

to pray with the pine

gushing from the depth of the earth

to the wild field

to pick the flowers

putting them on my head as a bride

to the arctic

to touch the lights

fingers brushing through the night

to the desert

to dance between musical scores

of sand waves bleeding in the rhythm of a didgeridoo

to the ocean

to watch thousands of glittering gold

on liquid silk melting away

to the mountaintop

to blow the resounding horn

echoing in the valley of souls

Will you return?

When the kookaburras’ laughter

and the roaring sound of heaven are joined

by thousands of acclamations

I will return

你去哪里？

到瀑布

和松树一起祈祷

从地球的深处涌出来

到野外

去摘花朵

把它们放在头上好像新娘一般

到北极

然后触摸那光

手指梳刷着黑夜

到沙漠

在乐谱之间跳舞

沙浪在迪格里多斯的节律中流血

到海洋

并观看成千上万闪闪发光的金子

在液体的丝稠上融化

到山顶

吹响号角

在灵魂之谷回荡

你会回来吗？

当笑翠鸟的欢笑

和天堂的轰鸣声

与成千上万的掌声欢呼相应

我就会回来

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XIAOLI YANG IS A THEOLOGIAN, POET, AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR. SHE LIVES AND PLAYS ON WURUNDJERI LAND AND IN THE MIDDLE KINGDOM.

Following the school shooting, Uvalde, USA, on 29 May 2022.

these children
………. beautiful
………. playful
………. messy
………. precious
young ones
in a blink of a moment
………. panicking
………. screaming
………. running
torn to shreds
blood-spattered

innocent lives—
………. 6 years old
………. 10 years old
………. 14 years old
and many more
………. 6 years old
………. 7 years old
………. 15 years old
………. 17 years old
……
in these days
………. months
………. years

rainfalls
tear-curtains
of our lament
filling the world
with oceans of
………. roaring
………. ranting
………. raging

don’t waste pain
………. time
………. life
any more
………. any longer!!!

  ℘℘℘℘

XIAOLI YANG IS A THEOLOGIAN, POET, AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR. SHE LIVES AND PLAYS ON WURUNDJERI LAND AND IN THE MIDDLE KINGDOM.