poetry

Fri May 1 22:48:27 PDT 2009

Diane,

Thank you for sharing Max's poem and your own story of opening space.   
I am reading this at the end of the second day of an inner leadership  
retreat I'm co-facilitating.

Please tell Max that I will share his beautiful words in the circle  
tomorrow because many of the participants are experiencing the  
profound polarities of their own grief.  Max seems to get that along  
with his understanding of how complicated his mom was.  We began today  
with grief work.  The participants decided to add "forgiveness" to  
Elizabeth Kübler-Ross's grief cycle.  Max seems to get that too.

Christy, I read "One Heart" to the facilitators last night.  Thank  
you, Dear Heart.

Michael, thank you for "Fire".  It has helped me talk to my family  
about my experience of Source.

With appreciation, feeling our oneness,

Christine

Christine Whitney Sanchez
Collaborative Wisdom & Strategy
480.759.0262
www.christinewhitneysanchez.com
Skype: christinewhitneysanchez
P Please consider the environment before printing this email

On May 1, 2009, at 6:50 AM, Diane Cline wrote:

OS friends,
You have no idea how important it has been for me to read these poems  
and feel the calling of Open Space at a time like this. Harrison Owen  
met with me in January 2008 when I was transitioning out of my tight  
narrow secretive job as an intelligence officer and resigned to become  
a graphic recorder and go back to teaching Classics (Greek and Roman  
stuff).
We buried my sister-in-law on Monday April 27 (Google "Sausalito  
homicide" for details - huge story in Marin).
Her son, Max, 12, has been living with us for two years now. Below is  
the poem he read (choked out) at the service which he wrote the  
morning after I told him the news last Sunday (April 19). She was a  
complicated person, and he got that. The funeral was a short 30 minute  
Jewish service at the cemetery.
Creating Open Space: I took on the responsibility of organizing the  
funeral, buying the plot, arranging for her body to come to Maryland  
from Petaluma, etc. But on Sunday before the Monday service the Rabbi  
came to firm up the order of the service pick the psalms and readings  
and I put the two brothers "in charge", the two brothers being my  
husband and his 9 years younger brother, who loved and fought with  
their sister. I gardened.
The Rabbi comes over, sits down, and 3 hours later is still listening  
to their stories. Marathon pastoral counseling session for the two  
brothers. Finally they close the open space, he leaves, the little  
brother leaves, and I ask my husband, "so, how was it"? and my husband  
says to me, "It was wonderful, but I still don't get why the Rabbi  
needed so much information about her when it is only a 30 minute  
service?"
Sigh...........................................

Mom
By Max Clary

I remember your touch,
like the sun right after winter,
I remember your face,
wrinkled,
like a warn out road,
I remember your voice,
soft like a spring breeze,
but scratchy,
like a branch against a window,
I remember your love,
like a blanket wrapped,
around a new born,
I remember your hair,
golden,
like a butterflies wings,
curly,
like ribbons,
i remember your hands,
soft like and angel wing,
but bony like bark,
I remember your jewelry,
colorful like a meadow of wild flowers.
-- 
Christy Lee-Engel wrote:
>
> Hi Michael,
>
> That is indeed a lovely poem, attending to the open "spaces in  
> between"
>
> Today was "Put a Poem in Your Pocket Day" here and the poem I  
> carried around to read to people also puts me somehow in mind of  
> open space:
>
> One Heart
>
> Look at the birds. Even flying
> is born
>
> out of nothing. The first sky
> is inside you, friend, open
>
> at either end of day.
> The work of wings
>
> was always freedom, fastening
> one heart to every falling thing.
>
> ~ Li-Young Lee ~
>
> Christy
>
> Christy Lee-Engel, ND, LAc
> 206.399.0868
> http://oneskywellness.com
>
>
>
> On Thu, Apr 30, 2009 at 8:07 PM, Michael Wood  
> <mjwood at admin.uwa.edu.au> wrote:
> Check out this lovely poem by Judy Brown, called “Fire”
>
>
> http://www.judysorumbrown.com/resources/poems.html
>
>
>
> Michael Wood
>
>
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