Let us try what it is to be true to gravity,to grace, to the given, faithful to our own voices,
to lines making the map of our furrowed tongue.
turned toward the root of a single word, refusing
solemnity and slogans, let us honor what hides
and does not come easy to speech. The pebbles
we hold in our mouths help us to practice song,
and we sing to the sea. May the things of this world
be preserved to us, their beautiful secret
vocabularies. We are dreaming it over and new,
the language of our tribe, music we hear
we can only acknowledge. May the naming powers
be granted. Our words are feathers that fly
on our breath. Let them go in a holy direction.
Jeanne Lohmann, Invocation
There is an original offering here, written for Poetry Thursday.
3 comments:
very powerful and moving poem
What a challenge - be "faithful to our own voices"
I had not read Jeanne Lohmann before. Thanks for the introduction.
Some days I come back to your blog again and again for the solace of the picture and words. It is so wonderful that you hold the space of comfort for our souls.
This picture has an embracing serenity I am charmed by it.
It goes so well with the poem you have chosen of which I especially am drawn to the last line "Our words are feathers that fly on our breath. Let them go in a holy direction"
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