For the Kin in Kindness

Source

 

 If we are already dead

(if our planet is dying),

I won't hide under the snow, but

will take the pit out from my stomach

and watch it resolve to glow

despite, because, time after time 

resolve means re-solving. 

Finding the solution in my belly

is growth.  Grow.  Glow. 

No stopping, no pity, only kindness.

Listen for the kin in kind.

For earthweal weekly challenge: ALREADY DEAD

Posted at earthweal open link weekend #57

My blog poems are rough drafts.
   Please respect my copyright. 
 If you quote, credit this page.
     © 2021 Susan L. Chast

One Life

Source

It's one little life

for you to lead.

If you will, indeed.

Not his or theirs or

a tree's, just this one

where I walk, this one.

If you please, touch air

or ground or water

or me, and know you.

Under all the roles

you play, I stand by,

watch, and stay alive.

Curled up in each you

I wait and I pray

you will stop, rest, stay.

Like this, just like now,

walking my ever

green-needled color.

Turning brown before

falling to cushion

your sound, your passion.

For the green, orange

and brown pine forests

provide, heart in my breast.

Loud in its loving

of this time with me

I love patiently.

For you join me here

where without strife

I live one sound life.

Lean on a pine branch

smelling crisp and free

remembering me.

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright. 

If you quote, credit this page.

© 2021 Susan L. Chast

Putting It All Together

bit.ly/RevLoveLearningHub) Copyright © 2020 The Revolutionary Love Project

Teaching  and practice with Valarie Kaur
Part one of her compass: See No Stranger

1. Wonder 

Older and braver 

we ease toward neighbor trees 

close enough to learn. 

2. Grieve 

See my wound and let 

me see yours. See potential 

limbs that scar tall trees. 

3. Fight 

Freeze, flee, fawn, and flop 

won’t serve us today. 

Faith shields our roots.

Teaching and practice with Valarie Kaur
Part two of her compass: Tend the Wound

4. Rage

Catching rage in jars

where it lights up like fireflies

signaling its truths.

5. Listen

Those of us who can

read fireflies welcome their sparks

and take detailed notes.

6. Re-Imagine

In tree branches, dreams

of collective creation

change everything.

Teaching and practice with Valarie Kaur
Part three of her compass: Breathe and Push

7. Breathe

Reaching forward with

breath as if we were trees with

roots nearly entwined.

8. Push

Reach. Inhale. Exhale.

Prepare. Forgive. Try again

with lighter load.

9.  Transition

We are not alone.

Pain sears temporarily.

And then roots touch roots.

10. Joy

Engagement begins!

And to know relationship

thrills, pulses in our roots.

or

You must have joy like

chocolate chips in cereal—

semi-sweet, alive.

   Please respect my copyright. 

 If you quote, credit this page.

     © 2021 Susan L. Chast

Engagement

 

bit.ly/RevLoveLearningHub) 
Copyright © 2020 The Revolutionary Love Project

Teaching and practice with Valarie Kaur
Part three of her compass: Breathe and Push

7. Breathe

Reaching forward with

breath as if we were trees with

roots nearly entwined.

8. Push

Reach. Inhale. Exhale.

Prepare. Forgive. Try again

with lighter load.

9.  Transition

We are not alone.

Pain sears temporarily.

And then roots touch roots.

10. Joy

Engagement begins!

And to know relationship

thrills, pulses in our roots.

or

You must have joy like

chocolate chips in cereal—

semi-sweet, alive.

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright. 

If you quote, credit this page.

© 2021 Susan L. Chast

Contact

bit.ly/RevLoveLearningHub 
Copyright © 2020 The Revolutionary Love Project

Teaching and practice with Valarie Kaur
Part two of her compass: Tend the Wound

4. Rage

Catching rage in jars

where it lights up like fireflies

signalling its truths.

5. Listen

Those of us who can

read fireflies welcome their sparks

and take detailed notes.

6. Re-Imagine

In tree branches, dreams

of collective creation

change everything.

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright. 

If you quote, credit this page.

© 2021 Susan L. Chast

Where Death Stands

 

source

We don't have a guestroom,

so death stands in doorways,

and we brush against it

when we enter and leave

any room, any time.

It's become familiar,

so I ask it to sit

and tell me its  values.

It doesn't reply, but

I hear-touch its surprise.

And the visit extends

way past need, I think, just

as a vampire might stretch

its welcome as long as 

life blood replenishes.

But death is neither god

nor vampire.  Death shocks by

believing in mercy.

I sit on my anger, 

constraining it to ask

What have you to teach me?

What has my fear of you

taught me?  I ask myself

these questions too, looking

into death's pale silence.

Covid is another

story, I say, anger

flaring, and I feel death's

No.   I say, It's unfair.

But death shows me the world:

Nowhere is there fair or

unfair, only unexpected.

Even in the poorest

places, people reach for

life with armfuls of love.

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright. 

If you quote, credit this page.

© 2021 Susan L. Chast