The Necessity for Irony: A Poem

The Necessity for Irony

by Eavan Boland

On Sundays,
when the rain held off,
after lunch or later,
I would go with my twelve year old
daughter into town,
and put down the time
at junk sales, antique fairs.

There I would
lean over tables,
absorbed by
lace, wooden frames,
glass. My daughter stood
at the other end of the room,
her flame-coloured hair
obvious whenever—
which was not often—

I turned around.
I turned around.
She was gone.
Grown. No longer ready
to come with me, whenever
a dry Sunday
held out its promises
of small histories. Endings.

When I was young
I studied styles: their use
and origin. Which age
was known for which
ornament: and was always drawn
to a lyric speech, a civil tone.
But never thought
I would have the need,
as I do now, for a darker one:

Spirit of irony,
my caustic author
of the past, of memory,—

and of its pain, which returns
hurts, stings—reproach me now,
remind me
that I was in those rooms,
with my child,
with my back turned to her,
searching—oh irony!—
for beautiful things. 

"The Necessity for Irony" by Eavan Boland, from The Lost Land. © W.W. Norton.
From "The Writer's Almanac"

A Novel by a Spiritual Non-Fiction Writer Set in Central America? Twenty Years Ago? Really?? -- A Guest Post by Writer Paula Huston

Paula Huston is the author of the newly released novel A Land Without Sin.  She is also the author of Simplifying the Soul: Lenten Practices to Renew Your Spirit, The Holy Way: Practices for a Simple Life (both of which I highly recommend), and many other books.  I invited her to write about A Land Without Sin.

**************

I’ll admit, it does sound a little far-fetched.  But there is a back-story here.  In fact, I was a fiction writer long before I began writing books like THE HOLY WAY.  I wanted to be a novelist from the time I was about seven years old, and actually began practicing way back then by writing a 36-page thriller about King the Dog, a super-canine hero who looked and acted an awful lot like Rin Tin Tin.  I took creative writing in high school, but got really serious about short story writing in my early twenties.  Since I had opted to get married and take on a full-time job in my late teens rather than go to college, I had no formal training, but I soon figured out that the library was full of great teachers.  I checked out all the BEST AMERICAN SHORT STORY anthologies I could get my hands on and studied the techniques of my favorite writers.

I sold my first story to a literary journal when I was about thirty, and by the time I actually went to college four or five years later (I’d been through a divorce by then, along with an eye-opening stint as a single mom, so I was more than convinced it was time to get a degree), I’d published quite a few of them.  A few years later, now remarried, a new step-mom, and armed with a Master’s in Literature degree, I got a job teaching at the local university and began trying to put together my first short story collection.  But one of the pieces, which was about the classical piano world at Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore, began to grow  uncontrollably, and pretty soon I realized I had an infant novel on my hands.  DAUGHTERS OF SONG  was published by Random House in 1995.

A year before it came out, however, my husband Mike and I made a backpacking trip to the jungles of Central America to see the Maya ruins.  We had just left southern Mexico for Guatemala when the Zapatista Uprising in Mexico began.  Like a lot of Americans, I knew very little about this part of the world, but this close brush with a revolution triggered an intense curiosity.  And that got coupled with my already-intense interest in the Mayas (my first major, before I switched to literature, had been anthropology).  I asked Random House if I could substitute a novel about all of this for the short story collection they’d planned to publish next.  They gave me the go-ahead and I spent the next three years researching and writing the book.  One of the biggest disappointments of my life came the day they informed me they’d decided not to publish it after all.  I stuck it away in a box and tried to forget about it.

Meanwhile, I met an editor-turned-agent at a writers’ conference who listened to my sad story and suggested I try writing spiritual nonfiction.  I resisted at first, but he was a great mentor, pointing me to wonderful spiritual writers I’d never read and eventually becoming my new agent.  It was his suggestion that I write a book about the simple life, the book that became THE HOLY WAY.   Much to my surprise, I found that I really liked writing nonfiction--it seemed refreshingly straightforward compared to fiction writing, which must always tell the truth but tell it “slant,” as Emily Dickinson puts it.  By the time I published my sixth book in this genre, I’d pretty well abandoned any notion of returning to fiction writing.

But one day a year or so ago I got an email from an old friend, a Christian editor who was starting a new literary imprint called, ironically enough, SLANT.  He asked if I had “any old novels lying around.”  I did!  And eighteen long years after I’d stuck it away and nearly forgotten about it, I dragged out that dusty old draft and reread it--and fell in love with it all over again.  Greg Wolfe, the Christian editor in question, liked it too.  He asked me some great editorial questions that helped me launch into a major revision, and a year or so after that initial email, A LAND WITHOUT SIN finally saw print.

How does it feel to hold this long-delayed book in my hands?  Surprisingly enough, I’m very grateful Random House did not publish it back then.  I learned so much during those many years of writing spiritual nonfiction.  First, I did not have any formal training in theology or divinity, so I had to educate myself in those areas--which made it possible, for example, for me to write much more believably about the struggles of a young priest to come to terms with the question of evil.  Second, when I wrote that first draft back in the early 90‘s, I was a very recent returnee to Christianity, still wet behind the ears, and this naive inexperience showed up as a certain kind of preachiness in that earlier version.  And finally, like a lot of people in their sixties, I’ve said goodbye to some of my youthful idealism by now--and I think this makes me a stronger, more realistic, and more truthful writer than I used to be.  Certainly a better writer for a book like this one, packed as it is with The Big Questions and their Not-So-Easy Answers.   

Living in a Time of Great Spiritual Awakening: A Conversation Among Friends

Are we living in a time of troubling trends?
• declining church/meeting attendance,
• dissatisfaction with institutional religion,
• the rise of “None” as the most common religious affiliation on surveys
• a feeling that old structures and programs don’t hold the new Life?”

Or, are we in a time of dynamic Spiritual Awakening and renewal?

Want to be part of the conversation??  If so, join us --

8 Reasons Most Quaker Congregations SHOULD Never Break the 100 Attendance Mark

Empty or Full??

Okay. I'm writing this in response to a re-post by my friend (and Friend) Adrian Halverstadt.  This morning on Facebook he posted "8 Reasons Most Churches Never Break the 200 Attendance Mark" by Corey Nieuwhof.  Since I'm a sucker for that sort of stuff ("10 Ways to Play Bogey Golf", "9 Tips on How Not To Turn a Tractor Over", "8 Sure Fire, No Fail ....") and am interested in churches, I read it.    His reasons are not bad --

1.  The pastor is the primary caregiver. 
2.  The leaders lacks a strategy. 
3.  True leaders aren’t leading. 
4.  Volunteers are unempowered. 
5.  The governance team micromanages. 
6.  Too many meetings. 
7.  Too many events and programs that lead nowhere. 
8.  The pastor suffers from a deire to please everybody. 

Some of these you might even feel helpful.  If so, you'll want to check out his blog post and see his reasoning why these eight things keep churches from breaking the 200 attendance mark. Maybe they'll help you on your way to meeting that goal. 

But these eight -- helpful as they might be -- gave me pause.  Not the eight items so much as the stated goal.  Breaking the 200 attendance mark.  Is that a worthy goal?  I don't think so -- especially for Quaker congregations.  And so I offer my 8 reasons most Quaker groups shouldn't even break the 100 attendance mark.

1. Spiritual Intimacy -- I've been in some glorious and large meetings for worship.  One at FGC Gathering this summer comes to mind.  But for the most part, my experience of truly deep, gathered worship has occurred in groups of less than 100.  Sitting close, seeing and knowing everyone there -- their joys, sorrows, concerns, hopes -- seems to lend itself to an increased spiritual intimacy.  Both with each other and the Great Lover of our Souls.
2. Listening Together -- since we gather to listen to God together -- and maybe even be given a message to share to those gathered, the dynamics of listening well together seem to me to be closely related to the number gathered.  There are enough of us afflicted with monkey-mind and thoughts scattering around that the power of those who are truly centered and communing with the Living Christ is more easily defused the greater the number of people who come together.  The power of those gathered wafts over and around a smaller group, drawing it together more easily than a larger one.
3. Community -- how many people can we really know?  I mean really?  I am blessed with a bazillion Facebook friends, but I am not in deep spiritual community (or any other type of deep community) with them.  I attended a mega-church once with some family members who attended there.  They were greeted with, "Are you new here?"  That was after a couple of years of attending.  Perhaps a goodly number of the congregants there feel connected with and in community with each other.  But I fear not.  Smaller congregations can engender a deeper sense of spiritual community precisely because they can both know each other and be known by each other.  
4. Trust -- when we know each other, especially each others' spiritual and life stories, then that intimacy and community builds trust.  We trust the others' motives and reasons for doing things -- even things we disagree with them on.  We cut each other a bit more slack.  We learn to live in love, not fear.
5. Working Together -- all of us.  When we're smallish, we all chip in to do the work that God has called us all to do.  For example, when my meeting -- West Newton Friends -- decided to do Quaker Quest in 2012, we did it together.  Everyone.  Some were presenters, some were hosts, some made food, some did childcare, some prayed for the efforts.  It was a whole group effort -- one that would be difficult to achieve in a congregation of 200.  Since we were all involved, we all felt ownership, to some degree, of the program and its outcome. 
6. Work That Needs to be Done -- smaller groups, when they are alive, not dying and form-driven, have the chance to do only the work that needs to be done.  So what that "Faith and Practice" says that we need X number of committees with X number of people on them serving X number of years?  No way.  There's not enough of us to do that without all of us serving on 27 committees.  Instead we do the work that we feel God is calling us to do.  Sunday school teachers teach because they feel led -- not because a nominating committee asked them.  Same with other programs or projects we undertake.  We look at what God is calling us to do with the people we have and the space we have at this time.  We do what we're called to do -- and nothing else.  I heard recently of a Quaker meeting that only had two committees -- Us and Them.  Us is pastoral care, worship, etc.  Them is outreach, missions work, etc.  Hmmm... what a concept.
7. Growing Deep Together -- our adult Sunday school consists of all adults in the meeting.  Where that limits the offering of electives, it does keep us together spiritually.  We study together, talk together, pray together, and learn together.  And good work comes out of it -- as when we all studied (even the kids!) the causes and possible solutions to hunger issues.  As class ended one Sunday we decided -- together -- that next spring we would offer a community garden on our property as a faithful way to respond to hunger in our own township.  There was little discussion because we all had been studying this issue together and realized that we needed to do a witness together.
8. Missional -- being small gives us a chance to think missionally.  There's nothing wrong with numerical growth.  I hope our meeting grows in numbers as well as in spiritual depth as we are doing now.  But I also hope that as we do, instead of worrying where we'll fit the hordes who will join, that we will say our building and our faith community can be accommodate 75 people.  When #76 begins attending, we should look at spinning off a new group and empowering them to to be God's Friends in a new place. 

No.  I don't believe there is any virtue in being small.  And if we are not growing numerically, as well as spiritually, then we are not being faithful to the Good News which has been entrusted to us and which has made such a difference in our lives.  But I, even after being raised a good (well, I wasn't very good at being good) Evangelical Friend who studied the Bible diligently, do not recall one time where Jesus is recorded in the Gospels as saying, "Wherever 200 or 300 are gathered, I am with them."

Just sayin'.

-- Brent

"A Land Without Sin" -- A Book Review

I haven't been blogging much of late, as I've been trying to finish writing a new book with my friend Jennie Isbell.  Now that Finding God in the Verbs: Crafting A New Prayer Language is off at IVP, it's time to catch up.  And there's a lot to catch-up on -- new music, new books, new happenings!

First up is a a new book.  Paula Huston's novel A Land Without Sin.

Set in autumn 1993 in southern Mexico, the novel features Eva Kovic's search for her priest brother who has most likely aligned himself with revolutionary forces who are hiding and raiding from the   Lacandon jungle.  Eva is in her mid-thirties and is a seasoned photo-journalist traveling under the cover of being the photographer for Jan Bource, a Dutch Mayanist.

While that's the surface story, much more is going on -- just as in real life, these characters have layered stories, secrets, and are each on their own quest.  A quest often unknown or unrevealed to the others.  Evan and Stefan (the brother) have their family story, which is far from being one of sweetness and light.  Jan has his, which includes a teenage son and invalid English Quaker wife who is housebound in their Mexican village home. 

Then there are the characters of the dark jungle, the violent guerrilla warfare, and war going on in Eva's heart and mind.

Huston's story is well told and the characters are rich and fully developed.  The are not all lovable nor all villains.  They are real -- filled with mixed motives and hopes and fears.  And the darkness of the jungle draws tighter around them all as they traverse on their individual quests and are caught up in situations far beyond their control.

A Land Without Sin has been compared to Joseph Conrad's The Heart of Darkness (and the movie based on it Apocalypse Now), but I think it has much more of a Graham Greene feel to it than a Conrad.  I first fell in love with Greene's novels whilst taking Brit Lit in college.  And I still love reading them.  The reason this is more Greene than Conrad is the element of faith as more than a plot device.  Stefan's priesthood is more than a character marker, it's important to his actions -- and to Eva's wrestling with things of the spirit.  Including her own struggles with the power and glory.  The human factor is a major part of this novel and is its strength.

On a personal note, I am happy for the portrayal of Quakers as decent, religious folk who are engaged in the empowerment of the poor -- especially women.  And Huston's description of Quaker waiting worship is pretty spot on, despite her referring to it as Quaker meditation (which is a not what most Quakers would call it).

Now for a disclaimer.  Paula is a friend of mine.  So you may not think me a dispassionate reviewer.  Guilty.  I enjoyed her books (mostly non-fiction) though before I knew her.  She's a wonderful writer and thinker -- and I commend her work(s) to you.

-- Brent

Check back later this week for a guest blog post from Paula!

Distance and a Certain Light

Distance and a Certain Light

by May Swenson

Distance
and a certain light
makes anything artistic—
it doesn't matter what.

From an airplane, all
that rigid splatter of the Bronx
becomes organic, logical
as web or beehive. Chunks

of decayed cars in junkyards,
garbage scows (nimble roaches
on the Harlem), herds of stalled
manure-yellow boxes on twisting reaches

of rails, are punched clean and sharp
as ingots in the ignition of the sun.
Rubbish becomes engaging shape—
you only have to get a bead on it,

the right light filling the corridor
of your view—a gob of spit
under a microscope, fastidious
in structure as a crystal. No contortion

without intention, and nothing ugly.
In any random, sprawling, decomposing thing
is the charming string
of its history—and what it will be next. 

"Distance and a Certain Light" by May Swenson, from Collected Poems. © The Library of America, 2013. Reprinted with permission. The Literary Estate of May Swenson. (buy now)

True Love: "Sweet Lorraine"

 A whimsical story of true love in song:

"Sweet Lorraine"

Questions on Prayer

Hi Blog Reading Friends --

 

As you may know, I'm at it again.  Writing another book.  This one is on prayer.  So I have two questions for you (if you'd like to play along):

1) What is your favorite/usual prayer -- either a written/formal one or one you pray seemingly all the time from your heart/soul (mine is usually "HELP!!!!")

2) What is a book on prayer that you've found helpful?

You can answer here ... or send me an email at brentbil@brentbill.com

 Ready... set... GO!

Thanks!

Brent

Signs & Spiritual Discernment

Recently, at a presentation I was giving on my book Sacred Compass, someone asked if I believed God worked through "signs."  "Isn't that a bit Ouija-y boardish?" she asked.

I had to think a bit before answering.  After all, I had an entire chapter in the book on "signs."  After some thought, I replied something to effect that "Yes, I believe God does work through signs.  All kinds of them -- internal nudges, outward leadings, literal signs, and more."  I don't think it's Ouija-y boardish at all.

When I got home I remembered a picture of a sign I had taken.  I saw the sign while on a stroll around a little seaside town and snapped it.  As I did, I remembered Moses demanding to know God's name before he went to speak God's truth to Pharaoh's power.  ^"God said to Moses, “I am who I am.This is what you are to say ...‘I am has sent me...’” (Ex. 3:14)

The sign and the story spoke to my condition.  I hope I am on "I Am Street" -- going to God.

-- Brent

"The Day I Die"

The Day I Die

by Krista Lukas

will be a Saturday or a Tuesday, maybe.
A day with a weather forecast,
a high and a low. There will be news:
a scandal, a disaster, some good
deed. The mail will come. People
will walk their dogs.

The day I die will be a certain
day, a square on a calendar page
to be flipped up and pinned
at the end of the month. It may be August
or November; school will be out or in;
somebody will have to catch a plane.

There will be messages, bills to pay,
things left undone. It will be a day
like today, or tomorrow—a date
I might note with a reminder, an appointment,
or nothing at all. 

"The Day I Die" by Krista Lukas, from Fans of My Unconscious. © Black Rock Press, 2013.

Photo by Brent

Words Can Kill ... And So Can Bullets, Of Course: Some More Summer Book Reviews

I'm finally learning to read on my tablet.  Sigh.  Giving in to the modern world.  I bought one of the early Kindles -- and hated it.  I never finished a book on it.  Just could not stand it.

But that was then.  This is the 21st century -- and many pre-release review copies of books (both by people I know and those who don't) are only available as e-books.  So, since my suitcase was full when I headed to Bald Head Island recently, I loaded my Kindle on iPad with new books from NetGalley.

One was good.  Two were really good -- for completely different reasons.  And one (that shall go unmentioned) was dreadful.

First the good.  That was Top Down: A Novel of the Kennedy Assassination by newsman Jim Lehrer.  Lehrer's premise is that the agent who ordered the top off the Kennedy limo (since it had quit raining) is haunted by that decision and is descending into a private mental health hell.  A newspaper man who covered the assassination and asked the agent if the top was going to stay up or down is enlisted by suffering agent's attractive and tenacious daughter to help her father.

As someone who was alive in 1963 and remembers -- as everyone of age back then does -- where he was when he heard the awful news out of Dallas that November day, I hoped to learn something new or at least get a different look on the events of that day.  What I got was a good summer time read -- this would be a fine beach book.  But, sad to say, it doesn't come out until October 2013 -- a little late for beach reading.  It's not a bad book.  It's a tale told well enough, but not well enough to make it a must read.

Next the two really good.  One is really good for, in part, taking me into a world I know nothing about really and making me want to stay there.  That world is the one of Maine state game wardens.  Now, in the interest of integrity, it's a world I visited before after meeting Kate Braestrup at a writing conference.  Her Here if You Need Me: A True Story tells of her life as a chaplain to the Maine state game wardens.  And it tells it very well -- so much so that when I saw Paul Doiron's Massacre Pond and read the description (The beauty and magnificence of the Maine woods is the setting for a story of suspense and violence when one powerful woman’s missionary zeal comes face to face with ruthless cruelty.) I thought I'd take a chance.

I'm glad I did.  Like Dick Francis did years ago with horse racing, I found myself drawn in by a master story teller.  Mike Bowditch, the game warden, is a likable protagonist caught in a web of intrigue ... oh how cliche-ish (but true) ... between Maine state game warden politics, moose-hugging rich environmentalists with seeming no regard for the local logging industry, local logging industry big-wigs who help out with Big Brothers but may have a seamy side, a very attractive young woman, the woman he really loves, and ...    Well, it's a pretty good size web ole Mike is caught in -- which makes for a good story -- beach or otherwise.  And the good news for beach readers, is that Massacre Pond will be out in July.   And it's origins are in a true tale.

The second really good book is about the power of words.  Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words can lead us to homicide.  Lexicon, by Max Barry, features a street-wise hustler (Emily Ruff) who is trained to have a persuasive way with words.  Very persuasive.  This grrrl of the streets is not always trust-worthy -- or is she?  The novel is all about the power of words and their effect on us.  It's also a cautionary tale about all the data gathering that is going on all about us.  I'd say, given the recent NSA revelations and the hunt for Edward Snowden, the publisher scored a wonderful release date (June 18, 2013).

Lexicon is a bit dystopia in the vein of Margaret Atwood's novels and also similar (in the theme of the power of words) to Ben Marcus' The Flame Alphabet.  You can read my review of the latter here.  Its readability puts it closer to Atwood than Marcus' ponderous book and so I really enjoyed it.  Yes, you have to suspend disbelief.  But any of us who work in words -- fiction or non -- invite readers to do that somewhat every day.  And we who work in words know their power -- and hope to use them (benignly and beneficiently, in my case!) to persuade readers.  Emily Ruff is just a bit more casual -- at least at first -- about how she uses words.  Lexicon is thoughtful thriller.  It's no War and Peace, but it's a better than usual summer time read that entertains, makes you think and is available now. 


Stay tuned for more reviews ...

Poems & Prayers: Summer Reading Recommendations, part 1

I am happy to be holding in my hands Eileen R. Kinch's poetry collection Gathering the Silence.  I've been an admirer of Eileen's poetry since I first heard some of it a few years back.  Eileen is a Conservative Friend of deep spirituality and poetic ability.  Her poetry's been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in a number of periodicals.

Her poems are often gentle in spirit.  Kind.  Helpful.  Even their titles reveal this  -- "Where the Worlds Come Together" instead of "Where Worlds Collide," for example.

That is not to say they are not questing, passionate or -- even -- furious.  "Witness" is especially so.

Your eyes have seen,
your ears have heard

a Friend beat the cat...

Gathering the Silence is a truly fine assembly of first rate poetry.  And for me, poetry often is prayer.  I'll be holding it close for awhile -- at home and as I travel.  A tiny book of blessing and challenge.

(And, if you're in the Philadelphia area July 14, be sure to stop by Pendle Hill to hear Eileen read from Gathering the Silence).

Another book I've enjoyed greatly is Men Pray: Voices of Strength, Faith, Healing, Hope and Courage.  I've long known men pray -- I mean, I do!  And I grew up watching my father, grandfather and other men important in my life do so.  Still, I'm not a very good pray-er -- so any assistance is gratefully received.  And these prayers by other men of faith help me move outside my usual prayers and into new territory -- for that I'm grateful (and probably, too, are God's ears!).

One of my favorite prayers so far (since I'm in the midst of writing/editing) is Kent Ira Goff's "Grit Seasoning."

While I do this grit
work, season
the irksome pieces
with enough
Ahas! to remind
of the reason.


Amen.  And indeed!

I heartily commend both these books to you -- you'll be blessed by them.

-- Brent

"...and if you/ were a day..."

What Is True

by Ben Kopel

 

 

one must be one 
to ever be two 

and if you 
were a day 
I'd find a way 

to live 
through you 

  

Copyright © 2013 by Ben Kopel. 

Ben Kopel is the author of Victory (H_NGM_N BOOKS, 2012). He currently lives in New Orleans, Louisiana, where he teaches creative writing and English literature to high school students. 

...a great seething prayer..."

Birding at the Dairy  

by Sidney Wade

 

 

We're searching
for the single

yellow-headed
blackbird

we've heard
commingles

with thousands
of starlings

and brown-headed
cowbirds,

when the many-
headed body 

arises 
and undulates,

a sudden congress
of wings

in a maneuvering
wave that veers

and wheels, a fleet
and schooling swarm 

in synchronous alarm,
a bloom radiating 

in ribbons, in sheets,
in waterfall,

a murmuration
of birds

that turns
liquid in air,

that whooshes
like waves

on the shore,
or the breath

of a great
seething prayer.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Sidney Wade. 

Sidney Wade is the author of six books of poetry including Straits & Narrows (Persea Books, 2013). She is also a translator of Turkish literature. Wade lives in Gainesville, Florida, and teaches at the University of Florida. 

"Let me cease to fear the embrace that..."

For a Dying Tomcat Who's Relinquished His Former Hissing and Predatory Nature

by Mary Karr

I remember the long orange carp you once scooped
from the neighbor's pond, bounding beyond
her swung broom, across summer lawns

to lay the fish on my stoop. Thanks
for that. I'm not one to whom offerings
often get made. You let me feel

how Christ might when I kneel,
weeping in the dark
over the usual maladies: love and its lack.

Only in tears do I speak
directly to him and with such
conviction. And only once you grew frail

did you finally slacken into me,
dozing against my ribs like a child.
You gave up the predatory flinch

that snapped the necks of so many
birds and slow-moving rodents.
Now your once powerful jaw

is malformed by black malignancies.
It hurts to eat. So you surrender in the way
I pray for: Lord, before my own death,

let me learn from this animal's deep release
into my arms. Let me cease to fear
the embrace that seeks to still me.

"For a Dying Tomcat Who's Relinquished His Former Hissing and Predatory Nature" by Mary Karr, from Sinner's Welcome. © Harper Collins, 2006.

From "The Writer's Almanac"

"The dark thing is hardly visible..."

A Dark Thing Inside the Day

by Linda Gregg

So many want to be lifted by song and dancing,
and this morning it is easy to understand.
I write in the sound of chirping birds hidden
in the almond trees, the almonds still green
and thriving in the foliage. Up the street,
a man is hammering to make a new house as doves
continue their cooing forever. Bees humming
and high above that a brilliant clear sky.
The roses are blooming and I smell the sweetness.
Everything desirable is here already in abundance.
And the sea. The dark thing is hardly visible
in the leaves, under the sheen. We sleep easily.
So I bring no sad stories to warn the heart.
All the flowers are adult this year. The good
world gives and the white doves praise all of it.

"A Dark Thing Inside the Day" by Linda Gregg, from All of It Singing. © Graywolf Press, 2011
From "The Writer's Almanac"
Photo by Brent