Thanksgiving Prayer

                   KC and the Thanksgiving Prayer

 

 

I gave a thanksgiving prayer to a new family I met near Asheville.

I got twigs and built a triangle (the three goddesses: corn, squash and

beans) and a square (the four directions:  North – Winter and cleansing,

East: Spring and beginnings, South: Summer and warmth, West: Fall

and remembrances.  The triangle sits above the square, because it is the

women who feed us.

 

You start in the square facing West and, while turning right for each

new direction, say:

 

We salute you for your wind and fresh new sky

We salute your wonderful people and cleansing snow

We greet the day with dreams to labor by

We salute your sun and love and fun and go

 

To green mountains, cold river by the leaves

Of Rhododendron bushes, tall black trees.

A new friend of mine now believes,

Captured by spirits she feels but doesn’t have to see.

Art Music Poetry #93

Spiritual Scuffle above Macedonia,2010,Kicevo Artist Colony

Spiritual Scuffle above Macedonia,2010,Kicevo Artist Colony

Bright eyes dig up a question from generations ago:

You want to know why the wind blew us

Together, how our sons will grow, when we will

Meet again, where will we be as one again?

Training gives you the desire to examine cause and

Effect.  Experiences about as wide apart as possible

Come at us, yet we harmonize, learn each other’s secrets,

Give what we know the other will love, provide

Sanctuary in a world spinning out of control for so

Many.  This I offer to distinguish myself from regular

Men, be they handsome or young: a complete heart

With continued support, undying gratitude, massage

Therapy, attempts at cooking, quite a way with words.

I expect you to smile when we chat, remain a solid

Force, a muse for my art, the reason I will always

Yearn for more, forever the target of happy life,

Memories (plans?) and a fresh heart, made whole

By the time we spent sincerely swirled, sufficiently

Molded to continually receive jolts of good news,

Connected forever by this love, complex, alive, strong.

The Question

The question
comes from young girl’s eyes:
“when do we go, and
why?” It’s the
why part that causes

her mother to stop.
She fiddles her bag
strap and lies.
Family of two
about to embark:

a journey
into the blue. None
notice the important
signals, but
her eyes tear, evade

inquiry, stare out
onto tarmac. A
bus pulls in,
they leave. Physical
realm, so hard at times,

so Mom taps
the spiritual within,
keeps smiling,
breathing, comforting
this strange
movement so

her daughter
gets a chance to figure it
out one step
at a time. Four years:
adult already.

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

There, in the bush

There, in the bush
At the hill
Under leaves
Was,
On this blue
And often hazy day,

A soft reflection of you.
Memories of the times
(few of them ever knew)
A slender subtle line.

A curved, not bumpy rock
Apparently not hard.
It came as quite a shock
To find the grain so sharp.

So, there, in that second,
While it lasted
In its warmth,
I,
At that moment
Loved you.

 

 

 

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1975.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Broken Humans Mend

Broken humans mend
as yang-tilted earth erupts
in war after war.
Grapes, resembling testicles
bunch on a

plate as she,
channeled, returns to
proselytize that all
I have to do is
pray, and life will be

good, not only in
my heart, but those around me,
if I can ignore
all the bad, let it flow by,
make myself

better, stop
crying, worry no
more about my son’s
future, reach for my
dreams, and chant.  Of course

this will work
as long as I don’t mind a
life made by,
for and of others.
If I could focus

on just me
and fix my heart, and find a
happy life
no matter where or
how, but by God, now.

And here’s the chant you are supposed to repeat a ton of times a day:

Mu il mu sang

yeong sang beop bul

sin in hap il

chun bu gyeong