New Refrain

Painting by Megan Triantafillou

Mass with mastitis
mother by marriage says we’ll go to see Mother Mary but I know you know better
drinking in the sacrament of breath…

…Symposium of spirits concentrate there,
a kiss to sustain the learning world when by day and night
it hardens,
angels martyred
only to meet the gathered light and song and with new refrain go right back IN
TO bodies as
shining epistles altering helices and species

but earthly love is lost in translation just as Love is on earth
and the infection spreads

Dear letters swim through sky like butterfly tracery writ before each wondering mind’s subsequent shift in degree
orienting to khwaravisu, the exact answer.
but when I ask, they less and less appear
locked in the solids humanity uses to
lock himself in his own (the possessive — also untranslatable) mass, matter, and mind stuck in position unoiled, unable to see a different constellation than the one in front of his eyes
when I recall their laughter
I disperse in form to set some free
by this body and blood,
Oh precious breathing beating ones!
bond and bestow as hyacinth and honeybee

but the beloved Words become like shells of long since transfigured insects
Creatures defined by “their” houses or margins, not by God-given wings
and we are never loved so much as the day we were born
the day we were nailed to a tree.

.

©2018, Amaya Engleking

*khwaravisu is a transcription of a word that ‘swam’ to me in the dawn of my spiritual awakening that means “made to live/participate in breath” or “immediate affirmation of God’s Love”.

dVerse

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24 comments

  1. Lona Gynt · June 5

    Oh, this is a tender song. We get locked in and fester, even when locked within a beautiful abundant nourishing garden such as the earthly churches, or earthly loves, it is the very fact of being locked in, proscribed, to whatever constellation is only in front of our eyes that causes even the sweetest love to fester and become an infection and an inward hardening wound. The trap is to be defined by our houses, our tribes, our ken, our dogma, and not the care that we are to give to each other, the land flowing with mild and honey, where the main purpose is to lift and care for one another. It is the care that sets the infection free and allows us to nourish the world of new life around us. This is the land that Christ showed in his ministry, and is the new refrain you have shown so perceptively here. This tendency to see only what we already know is such a trap, the answer is in these wonderful words:
    “and we are never loved so much as the day we were born
    the day we were nailed to a tree.”
    It is funny, my little response to the dVers quadrille cobble prompt is resonant with your poem in terms of how we bind and define and categorize the other even when professing the ministration of Christ, but your poem presents the problem with light and nourishment at its apex; mine, I am afraid, does not get past the accusatory regret, but even that, at least, might be a start. I am so grateful for your piece. This was hard work on your part, careful, precise, and luscious all at once. And I hope, (if this is autobiographical), that the mastitis is better, that is certainly no fun.
    Thanks, Lona.

    • Gospel Isosceles · June 5

      Lona,
      I need to go over and read your Cobbling quadrille, as I usually look forward to that 44-word prompt that comes around every two weeks, but with the mastitis and ‘family by marriage’ in town and toddler tantrums and infant growth spurts, I’m lucky if I get a 44-second break to breathe!

      This poem, as you dear friend in Christ can see, was hard work. I will be adding to/subtracting from it for years to come, I imagine, but put out the foundation for my dVerse prompt today about speaking to a soulmate, more or less. I feel so much of what is written, in general, and what has been seeping into the poetry I write down lately, is carried by a tone of explanation bordering on apology. I realize we’re all from vastly different spiritual walks and though we may look to be of the same human species, communication eludes us among most people throughout life. So common denominator talk. For a moment I at least wanted to try to get back to my spiritual roots and speak a language I’ve known for eternity. Because the language itself, the letters and words, are living Creatures just like I am! And filled with the love of God, are angels to enlighten the lost. I miss all the heaven rejoicing and the feeling of absolute belonging. But, that’s not what earth is for, though I am inspired when I hear modern-day prophets/poets profess how it’s up to us to live by Kingdom principles here.

      I hope to see a contribution from you, poem and principle:)

      • Lona Gynt · June 5

        We can have fore-tastes of all heaven rejoicing and absolute belonging here on the earth, like when I read your words. Thank you my friend.

  2. Lona Gynt · June 5

    This poem has officially made it to my bulletin Board 🙂

  3. kim881 · June 5

    First of all, I am sorry to hear about the mastitis – my daughter has had it and I had it when she was a baby.
    Back to the poem. I had to read it several time as there is so much to take in! 🙂 I especially love the lines:
    ‘…Symposium of spirits concentrate there,
    a kiss to sustain the learning world when by day and night
    it hardens’;
    ‘Dear letters swim through sky like butterfly tracery writ before each wondering mind’s subsequent shift in degree’;
    and
    ‘but the beloved Words become like shells of long since transfigured insects
    Creatures defined by “their” houses or margins, not by God-given wings’.

  4. Pingback: Poetry Prompt: Getting Personal  | Gospel Isosceles
  5. Jo · June 5

    This is otherworldly! Gorgeous!

  6. Frank Hubeny · June 5

    Nice phrase: “sacrament of breath” It is the “immediate affirmation of God’s Love”.

  7. Candy · June 5

    love this – “but earthly love is lost in translation”

  8. ihatepoetry · June 5

    Lovely.

  9. Vivian Zems · June 5

    I love the spiritual nature of this. I’m certain I’ve only uncovered the first two layers. Well penned.

  10. katiemiafrederick · June 5

    SMIles
    i Discard
    All Human
    Foot Prints
    Finding God iN
    me BEacH WHole..
    NoThing leFt beHind
    but aHead riGht NoW
    oF oN
    CourSE
    Not every
    one is Born iN
    Paradise NoW
    (Navarre Beach)
    The Movie ‘Contact’
    Used Pensacola inStead to reLate thiS
    UniVersal EXperience iN TheAter now too..
    of CourSE iNspired by Carl Sagan eYes too..
    Anyway thanks for this prompt as Synchronicity
    will have it NoW i just finished a 58 Month 6 Million
    Word 833 MacroVerse Effort of “SonG oF mY SoUL”
    takes a
    ‘Carl
    Sagan
    Computer’
    to oPen iT uP though hAha..;)

  11. katiemiafrederick · June 5

    In other words it fit
    wRite in too.. but way too big to link..;)

  12. Vandana Sharma · June 6

    want this song to go on endlessly…………..

  13. oldepunk · June 6

    this is very beautiful Amaya, an exquisite portrait of your soul.

  14. The pain and the birth contrasts so well with the spiritual sense of Love… a beautiful song. Hope you will feel better soon.

  15. Pingback: I Am – Mother Wintermoon
  16. mother wintermoon · June 6

    “but the beloved Words become like shells of long since transfigured insects
    Creatures defined by “their” houses or margins, not by God-given wings.” Beautiful word artistry. Your poem delves deepy into the human condition, spirituality and the trials of life. Wishing you peace, love and light on your journey. XO

  17. lillian · June 8

    I am late to the reading – again – sigh. Too much traveling and company.

    But this – I am going a different route with your words here….starting from the mastitis and a babe to the breast. I have deep deep memories – after 40+ years, of my two babes at the breast – that feeling…somehow, especially at the very early morning when all else was quiet, even if sore or painful, there is a spiritual feeling, wonderment, inward turning while looking down upon that small being. Your poem moves into this spiritual sphere…the wondering, the beliefs, the questioning, the connecting. Beautiful writing this.

  18. Awesome.

  19. annell4 · 28 Days Ago

    A beautiful write, as if it bubbled up from the deepest depths.

  20. thenotesonmyphone · 27 Days Ago

    This is beautiful and harrowing. I’ll be coming back to it.

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