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| "Love they neighbor as thyself," 4' x 6' wool hooked rug, by Dot Chast (1964) |
My mom spelled this out in her large hooked rug that hung over our couch for four decades: Love thy neighbor as thyself.
We drank in this faith while waiting for her to finish conversations with passersby, while watching her draw animals, trees, and buildings.
We watched love emerge in landscapes and still lifes, and hung them on the walls until what was white space became much like a forest.
Who is not our neighbor? Her smiles and kindness created neighbors along with homemade cookies and recycled and repurposed clothing.
We were surrounded by piles of what could not be simply tossed--magazines, egg cartons, coffee grounds, eggshells, and glass bottles.
Who is not our neighbor? Mom asked by cutting plastics before disposing of them, by thinking into the future of her children's children.
She and dad shared the faith of birds, providing food until their safety depended on guarding nests and feeders from rescued kitties.
Mom has never had much use for distant gods or godhead except for how it shows up in trees, neighbors, and neighborhoods she loves.
And she draws, gathers and assembles this vision into art--images whose humility surpasses that of altars in some churches I've known.
These are the sermons I attend to. We were surrounded by the faith of our mother. Her art surrounds us still. Who is not our neighbor?
For Sumana's prompt
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Neighbors
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2019 Susan L. Chast
Published in Grieving Into Love (2020), p. 65.
Revised 2024 as a tribute poem.
-art
ReplyDeletewhose humility surpasses that of alters in churches I've known. ...
this is a sublime piece ... the mother at its centre shines like a star and the message of universality echoes beautifully... We're saying the same thing in different ways I think Susan- everyone is a neighbour or no one is... oneness!
There are indeed sermons that have more depth and clarity than what one often hears on a Sunday morning in buildings devoted to sermonizing!
ReplyDeleteThis is an incredibly poignant and heart-stirring poem, Susan!❤️ My new and all time favorite from you. Especially love; " We watched love emerge in landscapes and still lifes, and hung them on the walls until what was white space became much like a forest."❤️
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem...mostly about your Mother. She sounds so much like my own.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely tribute to your Mom, who knew that art is spiritual practice. Beautiful writing.
ReplyDelete"These are the sermons I attend to." What a wonderfully wise and "seeing" mother you have. I hope you sent her this poem. How lovely to receive such a gift from a daughter. And so many gifts from one's mother. Lovely, Susan.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful tribute.
ReplyDeleteYour mom sounds like the women who raised me - mother, grandmother, aunts.
ReplyDeleteHow lucky you were to hava creative and artistic mother that taught you so much. What a delight it was to read this beautiful poem and tribute.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful witness of truly loving one's neighbor as one's self!
ReplyDeleteIt's so wonderful to grow up in such abundance of love and faith. Yes, 'Who Is Not Our Neighbor'?
ReplyDeleteMother is at the center of our universe when we are born, grow up and even when we're ageing if we're still lucky to have Her with us. A beautiful poem, Susan.
I love how you link motherhood and neighbourhood, Susan. It’s true and well put in the lines:
ReplyDelete‘We drank in this faith while waiting for her to finish conversations
with passersby, while watching her draw animals, trees and buildings’.
I remember the same with my grandmother, also reflected in the lines:
‘Who is not our neighbor? Smiles and kindness creates neighbors
along with homemade cookies and recycled and repurposed clothing’.
Growing up with art enriches a childhood. Lovely tribute to your mother.
ReplyDeleteYour mom sounds like a warm, nurturing person. Anyone who draws trees has to be. Lovely poem, Susan.
ReplyDeleteYour mum sounds divine. A thought-provoking write indeed.
ReplyDelete