Poetry & The Divine
Alyssa grew up thinking that poetry was a rhyme form only, and that writing it came from a thinking place. But following her first intensive meditation retreat, everything changed, and poems simply started showing up. She was the conduit, who sometimes could capture the words quickly enough to transcribe what the Divine was speaking. Below please find a rotating selection of poems from a collection called “Dancing with Divinity.”
Liminal
Midnight approaches, as does the knowing
of being in the spaces in between.
Preparing for Passover:
Scrubbing, schlepping, wandering…
all uprooting me, making me remember
that the dandelion
goes through its cycles
of rootedness
and flying through the air,
trusting it will land
and find roots again.
It’s not looking for the right place to plant itself.
It just knows
that the wind knows.
So I’m learning to live in the liminal,
and in so doing,
remembering it’s all a microcosm
of this grand, liminal life,
rooted all along in Divine Eternity.
Truer in Blurriness
My seeing is perfect in its blurriness.
My impressionist lens
softness the sharpness of the world.
The landscape, vibrant with color,
its boundaries just fuzzy enough
to remind me of the boundlessness.
The fire of sunrise and falling leaves
co-mingling into singular luminescence,
into the delight of being alive.
My seeing is deeper, truer
in its blurriness.
The Miracle, not the Mess
Creation is messy.
But don’t make the mess mean you miss the miracle.
The bringing forth–
it can be sweaty, dirty, bloody even.
But that’s just byproduct–
not bad, not ugly
but compost
for the next part of the creative process.
There’s no shame in the peels or rotting wedges
that pile up in making the meal.
Or the splattered ink
or paint or thousand crumpled attempts
of the poet or artist.
Or the crumbled remnants of life we stand upon
On sandy shores or rocky trails.
It’s how we grow and ascend.