Amanda Gorman, The Hill We Climb

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When day comes we ask ourselves,

where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry,

a sea we must wade

We've braved the belly of the beast

We've learned that quiet isn't always peace

And the norms and notions

of what just is

Isn’t always just-ice

And yet the dawn is ours

before we knew it

Somehow we do it

Somehow we've weathered and witnessed

a nation that isn’t broken

but simply unfinished

We the successors of a country and a time

Where a skinny Black girl

descended from slaves and raised by a single mother

can dream of becoming president

only to find herself reciting for one

And yes we are far from polished

far from pristine

but that doesn’t mean we are

striving to form a union that is perfect

We are striving to forge a union with purpose

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and

conditions of man

And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us

but what stands before us

We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,

we must first put our differences aside

We lay down our arms

so we can reach out our arms

to one another

We seek harm to none and harmony for all

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:

That even as we grieved, we grew

That even as we hurt, we hoped

That even as we tired, we tried

That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious

Not because we will never again know defeat

but because we will never again sow division

Scripture tells us to envision

that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree

And no one shall make them afraid

If we’re to live up to our own time

Then victory won’t lie in the blade

But in all the bridges we’ve made

That is the promised glade

The hill we climb

If only we dare

It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,

it’s the past we step into

and how we repair it

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation

rather than share it

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy

And this effort very nearly succeeded

But while democracy can be periodically delayed

it can never be permanently defeated

In this truth

in this faith we trust

For while we have our eyes on the future

history has its eyes on us

This is the era of just redemption

We feared at its inception

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs

of such a terrifying hour

but within it we found the power

to author a new chapter

To offer hope and laughter to ourselves

So while once we asked,

how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?

Now we assert

How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was

but move to what shall be

A country that is bruised but whole,

benevolent but bold,

fierce and free

We will not be turned around

or interrupted by intimidation

because we know our inaction and inertia

will be the inheritance of the next generation

Our blunders become their burdens

But one thing is certain:

If we merge mercy with might,

and might with right,

then love becomes our legacy

and change our children’s birthright

So let us leave behind a country

better than the one we were left with

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,

we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one

We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,

we will rise from the windswept northeast

where our forefathers first realized revolution

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,

we will rise from the sunbaked south

We will rebuild, reconcile and recover

and every known nook of our nation and

every corner called our country,

our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,

battered and beautiful

When day comes we step out of the shade,

aflame and unafraid

The new dawn blooms as we free it

For there is always light,

if only we’re brave enough to see it

If only we’re brave enough to be it

Your Creative Spark

 
Julia Watkins

We need your voice quit hiding in the closet
Your creative streak mines a valuable deposit
In the coffers of the Earth and the great human spirit
Can you feel it? Smell it? Taste it? Can you hear it?

The days of self doubt and tamping down are through.
You are needed to help the collective pull through.
The sludge of this patriarchal nightmare breaks down
Soon revealing an equity. We’re peacefulness-bound.

Bring our your voice, your words, your kindness.
Your spontaneous true heart? Let yourself find this.
The energy that keeps us all afloat? 
Must come from dispelling the fears by rote.

Say what you feel, dive into that pool.
Be free, tell the tale, be daring, be cool.
The only way to uncover this prosperous bliss
Is to speak out in tumultuous times like this.

Tricia Schwaba 2020

 

January

“And now let us welcome the New Year
Full of things that have never been. ”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
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“January, the month of new beginnings and cherished memories, beckons. Come, let winter weave her wondrous spell: cold crisp, woolen-muffler days, long dark evenings of savory suppers, lively conversations, or solitary joys. Outside the temperature drops as the snow falls softly. All of nature is at peace. We should be too. Draw hearthside. This is the month to dream, to look forward to the year ahead and journey within.”

From Simple Abundance A Daybook of Comfort & Joy Sarah Ban Breathnach

Yoga Closing Words

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“Heal yourself with the  light of the sun and the rays of the moon. With the sound of the river  and the waterfall. With the swaying of the sea and the fluttering of  birds. Heal yourself with mint, neem, and eucalyptus. Sweeten with  lavender, rosemary, and chamomile. Hug yourself with the cocoa bean and a  hint of cinnamon. Put love in tea instead of sugar and drink it looking  at the stars. Heal yourself with the kisses that the wind gives you and  the hugs of the rain. Stand strong with your bare feet on the ground  and with everything that comes from it. Be smarter every day by  listening to your intuition, looking at the world with your forehead.  Jump, dance, sing, so that you live happier. Heal yourself, with  beautiful love, and always remember ... you are the medicine.”

Advice from María Sabina, Mexican healer and poet

Give Thanks, A Poem for Thanksgiving by Max Coots

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Let us give thanks for a bounty of people:
For children who are our second planting and, though they grow like the weeds and the wind too soon blows them away, may they forgive us our cultivation and fondly remember where their roots are.
Let us give thanks:
For generous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers, keep reminding us we had them;
For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;
For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous and as elegant as a row of corn— and the others— as plain as potatoes, and so good for you.
For funny friends, who are as silly as brussel sprouts and as assuming as Jerusalem artichokes and serious friends as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;
For friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini and who— like parsnips— can be counted on to see you through a long winter;
For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time and young friends coming on fast as radishes;
For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils, and hold us despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;
And finally for those friends gone now, like gardens past. that have been harvested— but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;
For all these we give thanks.