This is such a tender and lovely poem, Sarah. We are visiting with our grandkids for two weeks and your poem is a beautiful reminder to hold each precious moment in that present moment, and then let it go to savor the next. And a reminder that even in their wildest and when my energy tank has run completely dry, that, too, is a time to savor the bliss of simply being present.
This is it Larry - sometimes it's a quickstep and others a slowdance, it's just allowing the dance whatever way it comes and goes 💜 Enjoy your visit with those kiddos!
Kate, how did you come up with this, I mean really, where does this come from? The worlds you channel are so alive and rich I find myself stunned. I would like to understand your process.
I honestly have no idea 😂 I’ve just been sitting with Kaitlin’s prompts at dawn when I’m usually meditating, and lightly holding the word in the peripheries of my consciousness.. what comes out is an absolute mystery, to me included 😆
I love this whole conversation because we all show up to this spiritual practice differently! And learning to actually surrender to the moment, to the poem, is such a gift. ♥️
Yes!! and also a testament to what a gift it is to have a teacher/guide/someone lovingly holding the container for the listening to happen, the way that you are by offering this <3
This is a lovely, unique poem. I agree with others, the imagery is so rich, vivid and alive. Where the beloved calls you/by your whirling name. “ Kate, this feels like the ecstatic poetry of Rumi, Hafiz and others, from somewhere beyond the realm of this physical realm. Your poetry is so wonderful to read and take in!
Larry, I have been reading rumi and Hafiz every single morning for around ten years now, so I’m so touched and ecstatic to hear that you can hear their voices flavoring my own… that brings me so much joy, thank you for this loving reflection.
I don't have any poetry of my own today but I wanted you to know that that coffee shop poem is how I'm about to begin my spiritual direction session with this one beautiful woman who it feels that this poem was written for. I've been looking all morning for something that felt right -- and it was in my email from your newsletter! Wow. Thank you for your words and for blessing us all with more poetry.
All of these moments of bliss captured in today's poems are lovely. I felt that moment floating on the river.
The emergency ball of bliss held your pocket--I have a few of those, too.
I've never really thought about the concept of communal bliss. Upon reflection singing in a chorus has those moments. A high school special chorus singing, The Peaceable Kingdom, more than 50 years ago--was one of those moments.
Bubbling joy, still waters, sunshine and camping--I've been there, too, and yes there was bliss.
Parenting at the same time of reparenting and being able to capture bliss.
I know I will miss some and my apologies, but every poem such a delight today.
Kaitlin, thank your for all the prompts thus far--they have been thought provoking. Bliss no less so.
This dance of being human -
Reparenting myself
As my daughter
Grows and learns -
Yearns and rages,
As she should -
As we all should.
Last night I held her close
For 'cosy booby' -
Our nighttime ritual
Of comfort, sustenance,
Sweetness and connection.
And for the first time
In a long time there
She drifted off to sleep;
Exhausted from her day
Of frustration, fun -
Bravery and bad-assery.
I looked down at her -
My greatest teacher -
Intertwined with me
In such a primal way.
And I felt it:
True and sacred -
Simple and treasured -
Bliss.
Then the moment danced on
And so did we.
To bed.
Hold onto those moments of bliss. They are sustaining in the years to come!
Oh thank you for this wisdom Margaret 💜
🫶🏼
Sarah, you took me back to such a sweet & precious time. You captured it beautifully!
Awh I'm so pleased to help transport you Trish, thank you 🥰
Thank you for bringing us into this precious moment 💔🍯
My absolute pleasure kate, you are so welcome 😍
I love these moments! And I love the way you describe your daughter. She sounds a lot like mine. 🧡
They're so precious A.!! Love the thought of us raising soul-sisters continents and oceans apart 🥰
This is such a tender and lovely poem, Sarah. We are visiting with our grandkids for two weeks and your poem is a beautiful reminder to hold each precious moment in that present moment, and then let it go to savor the next. And a reminder that even in their wildest and when my energy tank has run completely dry, that, too, is a time to savor the bliss of simply being present.
This is it Larry - sometimes it's a quickstep and others a slowdance, it's just allowing the dance whatever way it comes and goes 💜 Enjoy your visit with those kiddos!
bliss
I want to
see you
a fresh
each day
not from
being unaware
like
"ignorance is bliss"
not from
being detached
and selfish
my own bliss
but a
communal bliss
that is growing
and shareable
an aware full bliss
that is attentive
and caring
a bliss that is
open and inclusive
contagious
not one requiring
uniformity
creed or doctrine
not one with
passwords or secrets
or even walls to protect it
but a bliss
like childhood
playing at the park
a park
the size of creation
which we share
afresh each
new day
not a eternal sameness
but with new focus
new foods
to try
new music
to learn
new dances
new celebrations
new laughter
new contentment
bliss
Love this!!
Thank you
What a lovely capturing of bliss as communal and connecting!
Thank you
Bliss like a childhood playing at the park - this exactly Steven 💜
Thank you
Thank you for sharing this!
Great work Steven. May it ever be so!
It’s a memory I keep in my pocket for emergencies
My little rainbow colored bliss ball.
It melts on my tongue, salty & sweet
And my whole being feels the rush.
That night in my silky pink dress and you looking dapper in all your finery
We danced with the moon
And the stars gave us their blessing.
Smiles blossomed from our soul and kissed our cheeks
And you became my beloved forevermore.
♥️♥️♥️
Bliss as a snapshot memory is beautiful!
Yes🙂
Gorgeous Trish 💜
Thank you, Sarah❤️
This is a beautiful description of a blissful moment that led to many more! Keep on dancing! 💃🏽
at last
the gate unlatched, and I leapt
into the holy space between
the velvet toes of kit fox, that starry field
of welcoming tides, the river’s mud
not yet licked clean, the unfindable flash,
that secret window opening
to the unkempt origins of light.
there is the pollen smeared recklessly
across the heart, there is the kiss
spilled wide. there is your wedding
to the iris flame, where the beloved calls you
by your whirling name.
Kate, how did you come up with this, I mean really, where does this come from? The worlds you channel are so alive and rich I find myself stunned. I would like to understand your process.
I honestly have no idea 😂 I’ve just been sitting with Kaitlin’s prompts at dawn when I’m usually meditating, and lightly holding the word in the peripheries of my consciousness.. what comes out is an absolute mystery, to me included 😆
I love this whole conversation because we all show up to this spiritual practice differently! And learning to actually surrender to the moment, to the poem, is such a gift. ♥️
Yes!! and also a testament to what a gift it is to have a teacher/guide/someone lovingly holding the container for the listening to happen, the way that you are by offering this <3
What beautiful, rich images!
"...the holy space between
the velvet toes of kit fox..." Bliss!
This is a lovely, unique poem. I agree with others, the imagery is so rich, vivid and alive. Where the beloved calls you/by your whirling name. “ Kate, this feels like the ecstatic poetry of Rumi, Hafiz and others, from somewhere beyond the realm of this physical realm. Your poetry is so wonderful to read and take in!
Larry, I have been reading rumi and Hafiz every single morning for around ten years now, so I’m so touched and ecstatic to hear that you can hear their voices flavoring my own… that brings me so much joy, thank you for this loving reflection.
The connection to the ecstatic poets makes even more sense now! Your poems are wonderful!
Bliss isn't.
I know I should explain but
bliss hasn't,
not for a long, unsteady time but
bliss did, once.
Briefly. Softly. Slowly. And,
oh, my..."gasp!"
Thank you, Tracie
This is really wonderful, Tracie!
I don't have any poetry of my own today but I wanted you to know that that coffee shop poem is how I'm about to begin my spiritual direction session with this one beautiful woman who it feels that this poem was written for. I've been looking all morning for something that felt right -- and it was in my email from your newsletter! Wow. Thank you for your words and for blessing us all with more poetry.
That means the world! Thank you for letting me know ♥️♥️♥️
The moment when the outer & inner align
Bubbling, bubbling joy
That stills waters, noise, thoughts
My heartbeat thrumming:
“This. Right. Here. Notice. Soak it in.”
I almost walked past,
Almost didn’t notice
Almost missed it,
Due to speed and trajectory
The stillness on the water,
A perfect reflection & summary
Of the week
Sunshine & camping,
Laughter & delights,
Pool time & boat rides,
Key lime pie & touristy stuff.
Together & adventure.
Not perfect, yet bliss.
Harmony.
Outer sky reflecting inner water.
Bliss
>>> I also had such fun turning this into a reel.. with a photo I’d refound from a trip I took a few years ago with my kids.
not perfect, yet bliss - lovely!
"Outer sky reflecting inner water" 🤍 love this Nicole
I love this. Thrumming is such a wonderful word!
This is beautiful, Nicole. “Outer sky reflecting inner water/Bliss”. What a lovely line and a perfect closing of this poem/song.
Bliss - day 7
Each morning now,
in this early Spring,
under the spell
of coffee steam,
I look out the window
across the paint
chipped deck to find
light lit to flame
in the scrub oak.
This is my own
“Tree with lights
in it”, like the one
Annie Dillard saw;
my own moment
of bliss, unbending
to the expectation
answers, response
and action summon.
This is all there is.
This is so nice, Aaron. Any invoking of Annie Dillard and coffee steam in the same poem is a masterpiece!
Reposting Words from last night at midnight, as they are my Bliss!
Words
I have loved words since third grade.
I sat at my desk in Mrs. Mishaw’s class
and followed the cursive letters around
the top of classroom walls with my eyes—
capital A’s, small a’s
capital B’s, small b’s, etc.
marching in beautiful curlicues,
crossed t’s, dotted i’s, loops, and tails.
While other students drew or did math sums
I wrote words made
from those lovely letters:
fishbowl, apple, blackboard, cloakroom.
Weekends we played hopscotch
on our sidewalk,
writing our word-names in pastel-colored chalk
beside the squares.
Barbara in yellow. Susan, pink. Linda, blue. Joanne, green.
One summer at my grandfather’s farm
I followed Pappy to the field at night and saw a calf born.
A quiet man, he silently helped the cow give birth
while I stood in wonder,
then he spoke eleven words forever in my lexicon:
“Barbara, you may name the calf, and I will keep her.”
In college, I met the poet whose very name
gave worth to words and opened my heart,
writing of daffodils dancing in a jocund company,
and of the tracery of an ancient abbey ruin:
“a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused…”
The year my father was sick with cancer
I gave him a journal to write in.
A retired corporate speechwriter,
he always wrote words for others.
I hoped to encourage him to finally
write his own words.
After he died, I found the journal
tucked in the back of his closet shelf,
full of blank pages
empty of words.
But he was my first word,
loving me with books and
believing I could write my own stories.
And the word became flesh and dwelt among us
full of grace and truth.
What a blessing— your father as your first word and “loving you with books”!
What a deeply moving poem, Barbara, and a wonderful honoring of your father of life well lived.
All of these moments of bliss captured in today's poems are lovely. I felt that moment floating on the river.
The emergency ball of bliss held your pocket--I have a few of those, too.
I've never really thought about the concept of communal bliss. Upon reflection singing in a chorus has those moments. A high school special chorus singing, The Peaceable Kingdom, more than 50 years ago--was one of those moments.
Bubbling joy, still waters, sunshine and camping--I've been there, too, and yes there was bliss.
Parenting at the same time of reparenting and being able to capture bliss.
I know I will miss some and my apologies, but every poem such a delight today.
Kaitlin, thank your for all the prompts thus far--they have been thought provoking. Bliss no less so.
I am right with you Nancy!
What is bliss?
Little captured moments
like rainbows cast from crystals,
Your eyes light up
the moment you see them
dancing on the walls,
refrigerator,
ceiling.
It is the moment
a newborn’s eyes
open
for the first time.
Bliss never lasts
but the memories do.
I love this poem, Nancy. Full of tenderness, insight, wisdom and joy. Thank you!
Floating in the river
Dappled early morning sunlight
Through the trees
Gentle birdsong on the breeze
Oblivious to all else
I float
Held in this moment
This moment of bliss.
I want to come float with you Claire!! 💜
Claire, your lovely poem is evocative and freeing, and I can feel the floating right in my soul.
Thank you Larry
I thought we were friends.
Then plops in my first grandson.
Another layer.
Yes!!!!
A blissful toast to you, Chuck!
Bliss
The kiss of the breeze on my cheek.
The hiss of the first raindrops.
The wispy remnants of once-full clouds.
The prism of colors arching overhead.
Karen, we both got kisses on our cheeks! It’s the start of a good day😀
Mmmmm 😊💜
This is sweet, Karen!
Day 7: Bliss
The smell of jasmine beckoning me outside
Surprised by fireflies appearing and disappearing
Seduced with roses blooming
Soothed by cicadas singing
In awe of fresh chicken eggs
Amused by lizards chirping
Safe from mosquitos
Inside the screened in porch
Drinking hot tea
Nibbling key lime pie
Writing poetry
Under moonlight.
The realization
I have everything I need
here, now, already.
Oh, my, yes!
Awesome. Thank you for sharing
Yes, yes, yes!