Poetry contest

Esther Ewing ewingchange at gmail.com
Tue Jun 1 04:46:59 PDT 2010


Hi all:

So entries for the poetry contest are closed and we have some lovely
possibilities. You each have five sticky dots. Please email me off-list at
esther at ewingchange.com (copied above) and tell me your votes. The poems are
numbered and all you need to do is assign your votes by number, for example,
3 dots for poem 4 and 2 dots for poem 1 etc.

 

You have until Friday, June 8th to get your vote in. I will be travelling
from June 3rd until June 8th with limited access to my email. I will count
the votes when I get back.

 

Best regards,

Esther

 

Here are the poems:

 

Poem #1

 

Annual Event 

 

I open space once a year

Three and half hours once a year

 

A tentative start on each occasion

A gradual unfurling of potential vision

 

We set the topics? 

We work it out?

Do we do that? 

Oohh, we do do that.

 

Closing circle

Calm excitement abounds

The bliss, the confidence, smiles all around

 

We did that.

 

****************************************************************************
************************

 

Poem # 2

 

'How does OS work?'

'Beats me!' smiles facilitator,

'but what I can

tell you is this:

 

Whenever people gather to

treat each other well,

something quite magical happens

as fire souls emerge.'

 

'That's a stirring image!

What does it mean?'

'People whose dancing eyes

express readiness to converse.

 

Experiencing this has changed

our people and organization

forever, and we now

connect with unbridled joy.'

 

The power of this poem hinges on a deep understanding of what it means 'to
converse'. It comes from the Latin conversare - to turn or to dance
together. 

 

 

****************************************************************************
************************

Poem # 3

 

we walk through the door and enter the elegant round form; find an empty
seat. there's a greeting by an official, and then someone speaks a familiar
invocation, slowly so all can hear: the intention that brings us here, some
markers for the journey, some images of flight. a moment passes, and the
magical lifting begins, and we all feel it; our attention rushes forward,
drawn into a powerful whirlwind; there are moments of fear, but the power is
both thrilling and clearly benign. the rapid movement ends and our motion
calms, changes shape. our attention disperses, drawn here and there by the
heart. we can walk around carefully. unique people from different places
find ourselves bound with unusual comfort inside this strange but familiar
space. whoever spoke to us with that confident voice cannot be seen, yet
this astonishing thin container holds us well, strong and bouyant, guided by
the sun and the stars, the sound of the great planet turning. we look in one
direction to find vast new perspectives; look another to lean our heads in,
quietly sharing personal stories. we live and work in this space alone and
together for hours; take a meal, perhaps a nap. then someone knows when the
time has come. we return to our seats, alert and upright, invited to reflect
on a long journey, one last look around at our companions. we are now
returned safely to the earth. we stand to leave, gather belongings; the
confident ones wait at the door to wish us well, and we walk into a new
landscape. we are the same people, forever changed.

 

 

 

****************************************************************************
************************

Poem # 4

 

What far off thought

can come to rest in the company of friends?

 

What rooted promise

can take flight at the mere invocation of curiosity?

 

This circle describes,

an energetic inscription

a container that is itself a call,

that draws forth the needed salve.

 

There is the sweet dance of the heart

driven by the lightness of inspired vision setting its intention

 

And there is the solitary stationary act stuck in the muddy earth that seeks
its ascendance.

 

This simple shape holds all the energy that is needed for dreams to soar and
brilliance to ground.

 

Lifted and held.

Like a hawk on a thermal

Like a child gazing at the moon.

 

****************************************************************************
************************

Poem # 5

 

Everything

 

...swoops these days.

 

You seek out the flat spot,

the place you stand on both feet,

that speaks of still moving, round,

plumb-line, heart of gravity,

coeur de home.

 

I mean, how we dig for things

rarified and true

sitting squarely between our feet,

just right

perfect.

 

Nothing's perfect,

and listen to this:

if it's perfect,

it's nothing

 


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