Poem: Read My Poems?

Baby, you hungered for the Gaze.

“Can you see me? Am I really here?”

(Babies can’t gaze into their own sweet eyes.)

You beguiled the soft, charmed adults,

Captured the random friendly glances.

“Look at me! See me! Laugh out loud with me!”

Eyes of store clerk, mailman, doctor.

Offering up their transient love. Joy!

And now – distant echoes, warm, and empty.

Wouldn’t you like to read my poems?

© 2011 Merry Stanford

Into the Throat

Sitting in the butter sun of a warm October day

Hiding in the sugar maple

I watch, silent and unmoving

as the great blue heron fishes.

She is a teacher of patience

Legs still and straight as cattails

Head cocked and ready to dive – NOW!

Beak emerging then, dripping with the wiggling dinner

Taken carefully, carefully, into the throat.

© 2011 Merry Stanford

Poetry: I Am

This blog is about the spiritual journey, specifically my spiritual journey. And I have been traveling through some wild and high ground lately. At a recent training, Tom Cowan , shamanic author and teacher, mentioned a spiritual discipline of writing nine lines of poetry per day. The suggestion stirred my interest, and I find that Spirit is leading me back to writing poems. Poetry is sparse, yet full of personal implications and mythic images. It is a useful medium for writing about the things that are hard to write about. It helps the soul to breathe at the high altitudes. So I will be offering some poems here for awhile. Here is the first.


I Am

You burn.
You dance and you burn in the wind that blows across the sea.
You excite me and gather me and entice me.

We are here.
We are here.

We are here and here and here
flowing into and out from each other.
Breaking the seals of the fate that we believed in, once.

Living into the fire of I Am.

 © 2011 Merry Stanford