{"id":1762,"date":"2009-08-13T09:30:15","date_gmt":"2009-08-13T15:30:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=1762"},"modified":"2009-08-14T06:48:59","modified_gmt":"2009-08-14T12:48:59","slug":"poetry-friday-in-which-i-share-a-friends-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=1762","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Friday: In Which I Share a Friend’s Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

I’m here to share some poems a friend of mine wrote a couple years ago. His name is Chris Lance. Chris is not a full-time writer. He actually lives and works at the Austin Zen Center<\/strong><\/a> and is about to undergo training in the priesthood. But I think when he does sit down and write, he creates some great stuff. I’ve read a bit of his earlier poems from years ago, and when he told me recently he’d written some new poetry, I suggested he share some on a Poetry Friday. I was pleased to hear he was up for it. <\/p>\n

I don’t want to sit here and analyze my friend’s poetry too much, but I will say this: I love how his poems strike out on such a clear and accessible note and then often surprise you. And I like how they can sometimes be so gentle and startling, all at once. I chose three to share today. Thanks and mwah!<\/em> to Chris. Enjoy.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

* * * * * * *<\/center><\/p>\n

“The Abbot Told Me a Story”<\/p>\n

The abbot told me
\na story the other day
\nabout two people he knew who
\nmet in the Tassajara kitchen
\nand how one fell in love
\nwith the other.
\nThe feelings weren\u2019t mutual
\nbut they went on to
\nbecome great friends.<\/p>\n

This morning I walked
\ninto the zendo and bowed,
\nand bowed again and
\nagain at my seat.
\nEvery time I face my cushions
\nI can see you across the room
\nand perhaps I\u2019m bowing to you now,
\nfor this opportunity,
\nfor the way that I\u2019ve softened,
\nand for however it is that
\nwe might show up together.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

“Kitchen Practice”<\/p>\n

Tonight we gather
\nround a lamp-lit table
\nlaying out words and hearts,
\nwords and hearts that tell
\na particular story about
\nour lives together and,
\nhow tomorrow morning,
\nthat story continues as it has
\nevery other day this summer:
\nfrom dawn through dusk,
\nputting on our kitchen robes,
\nstirring awake the pulse of practice.<\/p>\n

Isn\u2019t it our delightful duty
\nto do such work, the cooking of life,
\nof our lives and all life so that both
\nthe difficult and delightful
\nbecome digestible?
\nMmmm\u2026delicious\u2026<\/p>\n

I\u2019m holding my finger
\nagainst my lips and there\u2019s
\nno one around but us now and
\nI want to tell you a secret that everybody knows:
\nhow the complications of the human heart are unknotted by
\nkneading bread, frying onions, cleaning sinks;
\nhow our lives unfold into endless offering
\nand the wide world over cared for by
\nscrubbing carrots, paying attention,
\nby saying \u201cyes.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

“Now We Have This”<\/p>\n

I want to
\ntell you a story
\nthat explains it all,
\nabout how I fell
\nin love with someone
\nand realized what
\nI was really longing for
\nwas already here,
\nin the composite of me,
\nwaiting to be given.<\/p>\n

So I decided
\nI would walk through
\nthe world this way \u2013
\nyou know, with those
\nfull moon eyes<\/p>\n

and then you walked
\ninto this opening<\/p>\n

and now we have this.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

* * * * * * *<\/center><\/p>\n

The One and Only Andromeda will be hosting Poetry Friday this morning—well, tomorrow<\/em> morning, as I’m posting this a bit early—over at a wrung sponge<\/strong><\/em><\/a>.<\/p>\n

Image above of the seated zazen from here<\/strong><\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I’m here to share some poems a friend of mine wrote a couple years ago. His name is Chris Lance. Chris is not a full-time writer. He actually lives and works at the Austin Zen Center and is about to undergo training in the priesthood. But I think when he does sit down and write, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1762","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry-friday"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1762","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1762"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1762\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1762"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1762"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1762"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}