Though headlines clamor, voices blare
and bitter arguments abound
in every fearful sector where
the chaos of the world is found,
each hibernating embryo
refuses to restrain its flow
of love beneath the silent snow.
When social order seems to fall
into the clutch of grasping hands,
a waiting surge is poised to call
upon the truth that countermands
the venom of contagious lies
before its spread can fertilize
the hopelessness in mournful cries.
Within the calm collective dream
of all-inclusive peace on earth
the universe emits a beam
directing to our own rebirth.
May every seedling labor through
the obstacles that block our view
of fellow feeling born anew.
2019 Mary Boren
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If you can set your biases aside
to champion what’s compassionate and just,
and value every member of your tribe
as if you’d given birth to each of us;
awakening to true community,
not rushing into battle unprepared,
but seeking out a path to unity
when sleepers’ predatory fangs are bared,
and forging through the darkness to the source
of light, replenishing your spirit when
the mantle sags, thus modeling the course
of energy infused with wisdom, then…
I’ll follow you with every nerve and bone
to places I’m afraid to go alone.
Mary Boren, 2017
Painting by Thom Ricks
Some higher truths are understood
at once; a solitary quote
can drive a lesson home for good,
while others must be learned by rote.
The holy bible clearly states
“Don’t fear” in phrases that abound
like manna, yet while heaven waits
I set my feet on lower ground.
I only need recall some things
in darkness, for I’ve seen the sky
replete with chariots and wings;
a host of angels standing by.
And knowing Who is present here
is all it takes to banish fear.
2010 Mary Boren
“Be a feather on the breath of God.” -Hildegard of Bingen
Breathed into being by God’s unbound
I am the essence of everything
in all creation,
destined to soar on an eagle’s wing
above the ranges,
gracefully drifting beyond the sound
of seasons’ changes.
I am a thread in the downy quilt,
beside my brothers,
sheltering nestlings from biting cold
when darkness hovers.
Pivotal, temporal tides may fold
but not destroy me,
borne on an aerodynamic lilt
to guide and buoy me.
I am the spirit of east to west
trusting the flow of the breeze that fanned
my holy presence.
Once I am given to understand
the art of sailing,
I will return to the place of rest
through God’s inhaling.