(from Brainstorms &
Artwise Poetry Roulette Cards)
I’ve come to the river to sit,
for this is where my soul can breathe,
amidst the grasses and the trees,
watching the clouds above
reflected in the water below,
a mirror of myself
as I take in this moment.
I’ve come to the river to sit,
to pause.
And it feels right now
like I am the only thing that is still
in this wild world around me.
I’ve come to the river to sit.
This is where my soul can grieve.
The movement of the water soothes me,
reminds me that life keeps flowing,
just as the current never changes
its direction.
I spent the better part of last week on retreat with a group of contemplative leaders, artists, musicians, and thought leaders as part of the Garrison Institute Fellowship. It was inspiring, enriching, and enlivening to practice, play, and participate in deep conversation with all of the fellows. But the most impactful moment for me was my arrival, walking out onto the gravel driveway between the building and the field that fronts New York's Hudson River, inhaling the fragrant jasmine, overtaken by the fresh spring blossoms and tender greenery. The rush of the waterfall across the shore replaced the chatter of thoughts and conversations that had occupied the train ride from New York City (and much of my time leading up the the retreat). I felt my body let out a deep sigh that seemed to open space for gratitude to stream in.
This poem that I wrote in 2014 played over and over in my mind throughout the week like a chant, calling me toward the river every chance I had. At times, I sat on a bench overlooking the water conversating with various fellows. Other times, I communed with myself and the sense of divine presence that I felt in the space. I took a short video one still afternoon and added my spoken word of this poem. You can access the video here or by clicking the image below.
Wishing you moments to pause, to breathe, and to feel the current of life gently guiding you.
With love,
Jennifer