February 15, 2017 by
January 26, 2017 by
January 8, 2017 by
4 Directions @ 2017 Bo Mackison
November 29, 2016 by
In the middle of the night
when my companion is the tick
of the second-hand
– and heart beat
In the early morning hours
awaiting first light
so still in the house
– too quiet
In wait for the coming of storm,
be it thunder, hail, snow squall
– or a brewing wild within
Midst scheduled days or days unfettered,
in calm or angst
with joy or grief,
– take up your pen and paper
And in keen or chant, praise or lament,
in raised voice or sultry whisper,
– all is sacred and profane
Cast spell and benediction,
turn your words into phrases
and phrases into lines
– invite unruliness and ecstasy too
Take up your pen,
invoke madness or muse
Take up your pen and write
– then, poetry emerges.
November 28, 2016 by
A Thanksgiving Blessing
Bless the beginning and the end
and all moments in between.
Those in-between moments, long pauses,
interminable wait or – paradoxically –
too much action. A blur, a flash, a crash.
Bless this very moment.
Bless me, sitting at my desk, with filtered November shining through my window,
a light/shadow abstract cast upon these written words. Holy words.
Bless this moment of routine
In the midst of the ordinary and mundane
In between the common and the trivial.
In the midst of unspeakable despair
lingers a relentless awareness of what is.
Yes, here is the sacred.
In this – the present – there is presence.
Bless the quiet night
and the firelight,
the dark shiver and the cold.
Bless the dream unfolding in sleep
and the dreamer;
Bless the seeds germinating in damp earth
and the cracked seed, foreteller of life.
Bless a pale sun that casts blue shadows on crested snow;
Bless the lakes and rivers in icy embrace.
Bless us, in our silence and our singing,
our laughter and our weeping.
Bless absence in the presence
and presence in the absence.
Bless this moment.
Bless us all.