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A thread for sharing Carol Lynn Pearson poems


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Posted

In honor of Carol Lynn Pearson's passing, I wanted a thread to be able to share her poems. I happen to love the field of poetry myself, but I've never gotten a hold of any of her anthologies as my local libraries don't carry any of her works. If you happen to know a poem of hers that I don't have included please post it too.

This was one she wrote referencing her future passing:

 

TO THOSE WHO HAVE LOVED ME

When I am gone

Let me lie in state

in your heart

for a day or two

or more.

Then plant me

deep in the soil

of your best work

And let me help

toward harvest.

Posted

This is one of her many poems referencing Heavenly Mother:

 

- A Motherless House -

I live in a Motherless house,
A broken home. 
How it happened I cannot learn. 
When I had words enough to ask 
“Where is my Mother?”
No one seemed to know,
And no one thought it strange 
That no one else knew either. 
I live in a Motherless house.
They are good to me here,
But I find that no kindly 
Patriarchal care eases the pain. 
I yearn for the day 
Someone will look at me and say, 
“You certainly do look like your Mother.” 
I walk the rooms, 
Search the closets,
Look for something that might 
Have belonged to her—
A letter, a dress, a chair. 
Would she not have left a note? 
I close my eyes 
And work to bring back her touch, her face.
Surely there must have been 
A Motherly embrace 
I can call back for comfort. 
I live in a Motherless house,
Motherless and without a trace. 
Who could have done this? 
Who would tear an unweaned infant 
From its Mother’s arms 
And clear the place of every souvenir? 
I live in a Motherless house.

Posted

This is the title poem of her very first poetry anthology, "Beginnings":

 

- Beginnings -

Today
You came running
With a small specked egg
Warm in your hand.
You could barely understand,
I know,
As I told you of Beginnings–
Of egg and bird.

Told, too,
That years ago you began,
Smaller than sight.
And then,
As egg yearns for sky
And seed stretches to tree,
You became–
Like me.

Oh,
But there’s so much more.
You and I, child,
Have just begun.

Think:
Worlds from now
What might we be?–
We, who are seed
Of Deity.

Posted

- ASKING FATHER -

I tiptoed into prayer. 

Hesitantly: 

"Father, do you mind that I am giving so much attention to Her these days?" 

There were no words. 

There was thought. 

I thought there was an instant embrace warm, I thought, and soft and strong 

that drew me in so close and drew the Mother in so close 

and there we were 

held tight in a circle of three a familial trinity. 

That's what I thought. 

What I know is this: 

tears on my cheeks. 

Amen.

Posted

- My Season - 

 

Seeing the tree

Beneath a baptism of snow,

You may call her barren.

But is it so?

And for all your watchings

On a March night

When the twigs seem dark

And the bark

Feels cold to your hand --

Can you call her fruitless

And so leave? 

 

She smiles,

Calm in the station

Of seasons

And in the ordination

Of sun, and sap, and spring. 

 

As for me?

You turn away,

Impatient with the promises you've seen.

But -- inside I fill

And pulse and flow

With the urgency of green. 

 

I've a season,

Like the tree.

And all your

Faithless doubts

Will not destroy

The rising spring

In me.

Posted

- Time for the Gulls - 

 

It’s time, Father,

For the gulls, I think.

My arms shake

From flailing my field.

I sink,

Broken as the little stalks

Beneath their devouring burden. 

I yield it all to you,

Who alone can touch all things.

It’s time, Father,

For the gulls. 

I will be still,

And listen for their wings.

 

Posted

Another one of her poems of Heavenly Mother:

 

- Jesus Remembered - 

 

I am imagining this morning

After my amen in his name 

 

That when our Mother helped Jesus 

prepare for his thirty-three-year

mission into the world’s wilderness 

 

She laid a hand on his heart and said: 

Don’t forget this: 

Of the many people you will teach

And bless and heal, pay special attention

To the ones who look like me. 

 

Things have gone awry, as we knew

They might and many are badly used 

Especially your sisters who are seen as

Property and positioned five feet lower

In the temple than the men 

 

And are kept from the scriptures

And from speaking

And are subordinate everywhere 

And oh the daily prayers your Father hears

From our dear Jewish boys: 

“Praised be God that he has not

Created me a woman.” 

 

You will not forget your Mother’s words.

You will pay special attention

To the ones who look like me. 

I am imagining that She watched carefully

As he walked the dusty earth doing shocking things

That made their way into my Bible 

 

And perhaps into his Mother’s journal: 

He spoke today to a woman in public—

A Samaritan!—at Jacob’s well—

Disreputable act, they say. 

He calls women from their houses to come and listen

And follow him as disciples, ministering to him.

Unheard of, they say. 

 

Today he allowed a woman (of ill repute they say)

To wash his feet with her tears

And dry them with her hair. I wept. 

He performs miracle after miracle at the request 

Of those who look like me. 

 

He saved a woman from stoning by calling out

Our dear hypocritical boys

The scribes and Pharisees. 

 

Ah, to sweet Martha and Mary

He speaks of the life of the spirit and the mind

As “the better part” of the busyness of women. 

 

He calls women to pray, to lead

To preach the gospel—such good news! 

He remembered! 

 

Sitting here now with the thin pages that

Softly rustle as I turn them, I feel Jesus 

laying a hand on my heart and saying to me: 

Do what ye have seen me do. 

And I believe he asks me to pay special attention

To those who look like our Mother. 

I remember.

 

Posted

- Mother To Child - 

 

Look --

Your little fist

Fits mine

Like the pit

In a plum. 

 

One day

And one size,

These two hands will

Clasp companionably. 

 

Help me, child

Forgive me

When I fail you.

I'm your mother,

True,

But in the end

Merely an older equal

Doing her faltering best

For a dear

Small friend.

Posted

- The Woman - 

 

God fashioned me

For feeding;

And set me in

A hungry land. 

 

I give --

To satisfy

The unconscious appetite

Of the unborn,

And the child's

First thirsting need. 

 

I give --

To be

Sweet sustenance

To aching man,

And then

Quiet comfort

To a weary, wanting

World. 

 

There is much

Hunger here. 

 

Oh,

Father -- fill me,

That I may nourish

Generously.

Posted

- The Lesson -

 

Yes, my fretting,

Frowning child,

I could cross

The room to you

More easily.

But I’ve already

Learned to walk,

So I make you

Come to me.

Let go now—

There!

You see?

Oh, remember

This simple lesson,

Child,

And when

In later years

You cry out

With tight fists

And tears—

“Oh, help me,

God—please.”—

Just listen

And you’ll hear

A silent voice:

"I would, child,

I would.

But it’s you,

Not I,

Who needs to try

Godhood.”

Posted

- Short Roots -

 

The tree

At the church next door to me

Turned up its roots and died.

They had tried

To brace its leaning,

But it lowered

And lowered,

And then there it lay—

Leaves in grass

And matted roots in air,

Like a loafer on a summer day.

“Look there,”

Said the gardener,

“Short roots—all the growth went up—

Big branches—short roots.”“

How come?” I asked.

“Too much water.

This tree had it too good.

It never had to hunt for drink.”

Especially in thirsty times,

My memory steps outside,

And looks at the tree

At the church next door to me

That turned up its roots and died.

Posted

- Position -

 

If “A” looks up to “B”

Then by nature of the physical universe

“B” must look down on “A”

Rather like two birds

Positioned

One on a tree

And one on the ground.

Or so thought Marjorie

Who had always wanted to marry

A man she could look up to

But wondered where that

Would place her

If she did. 

 

Imagine her astonishment

When she met Michael and found

That together they stood

Physics on its head. 

 

You could never

Draw this on paper

For it defies design

But year after year

They lived a strange

Arrangement

That by all known laws

Could not occur:

She looked up to him

And he looked up to her.

Posted

Excerpt from - "Ask the Pope or Ask an Atheist”:


Ask the female atheist
“Tell me about God”

She will narrow her eyes and say
“God? There is no God.
He does not exist!”

Miraculous.

Even without existing
God wears a suit and tie.

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