Sunday, August 15, 2021

Thought for the Day

Live in the layers,
not on the litter. 
~ Stanley Kunitz
_________________________

Quoted from Stanley Kunitz, "The Layers" in The Collected Poems of Stanley Kunitz (W.W. Norton, 1978; 2002)

Stanley Kunitz (1905-2006), 10th U.S. Poet Laureate

 
 
Theresa Riley, "A Poet a Day: Stanley Kunitz" at Bill Moyers (Introductory Text and Video)

1 comment:


  1. I have a poem for you-- so that you have it I'll paste it in here and hope it holds format....let me know what you think--4 Mary Mary...

    The Transfiguration of Maria Magdalena

    Once long ago
    in the dusk, the shadows
    of a mud and straw farmhouse
    in the well-grazed hills of Samaria

    I, now Archangel Magdelena
    in my Love of Love's arms,
    was in labor;

    He kissed my hair and I pressed on:
    then born unto us, the tiniest one
    imaginable, a baby girl with the voice
    of a sparrow, the thinnest cry

    I, new mother, could not bear to still
    against my breast
    because it seemed the tremulous high voice
    of a cherub.


    We had come to the hamlet in the hills
    to be out of reach of enemies, skeptics,
    persecution, priests and the edicts of Pilate,

    wary disciples keeping watch
    costumed as shepherds
    who had been uneasy
    with the carnal hungers
    of our Lord,

    for imagine the virility
    of God himself--
    et incarnatus est!
    and the depths of desire
    of I who loved Him.

    Oh history, oh sorrow.
    We, you and I, know where this goes:
    in mere hours, having wept in Gethsemane,

    so made of love for all the mortal world
    He was lost unto me and we thought,
    unto us all.

    Indeed I was that Mary, the excoriated one;
    yet my Lord transfigured me with his very touch,
    his hands and fingers of light;

    he loved me and I wept;
    we were of each other and I felt all
    that came to pass;
    his stigmata were mine.

    But then joy of joys,
    after the day of horror.
    When I went to the tomb
    with the other women
    to find it open,

    suddenly greatest light poured from it
    filling the village and then
    the firmament
    until all of the angels came singing
    weeping tears of joy--

    the great, blazing air
    even filling me, healing my grief,
    cleansing me of sorrow!

    And then I knew it as my love and Lord
    and she who became Sparrow of Magdalena
    would sit near the well at day's end,

    even as an exquisite child,
    her small face caressed
    by the descending sun.


    Jenne' R. Andrews
    for the "Mary Mary" Challenge...

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