March 17, 2011

The Pieces of My Shame

Lac d'Annecy, by Paul Cézanne

In alleyways I sweep myself up
out of garbage and broken glass.
With my half-mouth I stammer you,
who are eternal in your symmetry.
I lift to you my half-hands
in wordless beseeching, that I may find again
the eyes with which I once beheld you.

I am a city by the sea
sinking into a toxic tide.
I am stranger to myself, as though someone unknown
had poisoned my mother as she carried me.

It's here in all the pieces of my shame
that now I find myself again.

From the Book of Hours II, 2

5 comments:

  1. Starting from where we are means trusting the difficult -- we each begin with something broken, almost dead, and then find adequate words for that toxic underwater / womb-bound city. We find the buoyancy of song and make our way from there. This is something Rilke tended like a garden for decades as he grew his boundless Yes.- Brendan

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  2. Beautifully said, Brendan. Growing into Yes is all we can do. Even, and especially, in the face of so much No.

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  3. ..I sweep myself up
    out of garbage and broken glass..
    such a good capture of our brokenness - how we try to put the pieces together - i knew he was a broken man - like most of us are broken in one or the other way. so here's the statement - no denial - and with it comes the hope

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  4. It's here in all the pieces of my shame
    that now I find myself again.


    This resonates like a bell, Lorenzo and Ruth.

    xo
    erin

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"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!