Sunday, November 21, 2021

The Power of Poetry - Holy Inspiration - South Church Faith Forum

The Power of Poetry: Holy Inspiration

Today I was invited to speak at South Church Andover’s Faith Forum. 

Faith Forum is a discussion group held before church most Sundays. The discussion topics may focus on readings and stories from the Bible, or books on spiritual and religious themes. Other times people bring topics of social or climate justice to discuss. South Church Andover is an open and affirming, progressive and non-dogmatic Christian church. My wife Debbie and I are members of South Church, and have been for a long time.

This week I was asked to talk about the power of poetry, and how it speaks to the spirit. 

I opened with my poem "Church Hour". This poem was written on a church bulletin while sitting in South Church before the Sunday service started, listening to the choir and organist rehearse, the indistinct background talk of friends greeting one another, the swirl of people gathering in faith. If you ever see me scribbling notes while sitting in church, it's usually because something has inspired me! I shared this poem with Pastor Dana, and then had the privilege and joy of reading it a few months later in front of the church as part of service!

Church Hour (poem) link

Where does great poetry come from?

And why does great poetry often have a spiritual dimension?

Here is something I’ve heard from a number of poets – and I hear this from people who I think are among the best –

In answer to the question, where does a great poem come from?

The poet’s answer: “I have no idea where it comes from. I just write it down.”

That’s the way it often feels for me. It feels like some of my poems come from out in the world somewhere, or from another world, another voice speaking through me as the poet. Sometimes I have this feeling of “being written onto”. A few times for me it has even been an almost overwhelming physical sensation. It is a loss of self – a loss of self and a connection to the transcendent. It is sometimes a feeling of connection to God, which for me is the spirit in the world.

I’m not saying it always feels like this when writing poetry. Sometimes writing poetry is like building a piece of fine furniture – it takes some inspiration, careful craft, the right tools, time to work, and voila, hopefully a beautiful and useful thing. But there are those rare times that, as a poet, I can say I’ve had the feeling of being spoken to, pressed upon by mysterious energy and forces. And all I can do is write it down. (From there, it takes some some work to finish it, as even the most inspired poem is usually not born fully realized!)

This is the kind of poetry where the poet's job is to listen – to be attuned – to be like an antenna picking up a distant signal that suddenly comes through loud and clear. Sometimes so loud and clear that it hurts and must be written down, captured, to make sense of what just happened.

I think this feeling, this occurrence, is the foundation for poetry of the spirit. I thought I would share some of my poems that touch on God and spirituality.  Here are two.

Waiting In The Colonial Churchyard (poem) link

Surprised (poem) link

I also invited my friend and poet Bob Whelan to speak and read a few of his poems, which he did, wonderfully.

Drawing from other poets, I read the poem God's Grandeur (link) by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and talked a little about his life as a poet.

My closing words were this poem: 

Prayer Of The Rivers And The Land (poem) link

Prayer Of The Rivers And The Land (poem)

Prayer Of The Rivers And The Land


Twin rivers of love and justice
flow from the source mountain.
They nourish the parched land.
They bring life to where it had given up hope.
Waters of life they are,
surely as the water we drink.

Twin rivers of love and justice
travel over common ground.
They give shape to the ground between us.
They make the land.
This land is a good place to stand together,
in fair difference and shared purpose.

Twin rivers of love and justice
travel arm in arm, courses entwined.
They entwine in the valley below the source mountain,
as they carry us to the pacific sea.

Twin rivers of love and justice – 
May you bring life to our dry hearts. 
May we be ready to receive your waters,
and not turn away from your courses.
May we be ready to drink deep from your waters of life.
Twin rivers of love and justice
bring us strength and resolve,
carry us in your ease.
Amen.

January 2016  North Andover, Mass.
Copyright by Mark Bohrer



Surprised (poem)

Surprised












God is surprised 
by what takes place.
Aren’t you?
The next turn of events,
God knows not.
He wants to find out.
Don’t you?
Otherwise, She might say,
what would be the point?
If there was no choice about it,
God would not want that world –
if it were all pre-ordained, pre-cast.
So instead – 
God is surprised.

It’s so much more fun
to know not
how the dice will finish their roll.
Will good come out on top?
Or will it need another try?
God wants to find out.
Don’t you? 
That’s the reason 
All was started.
God wanted to find out
what this world might be – 
if given the chance.
What we might be – 
if given the choice.

Isn’t it surprising that God – 
All Knowing, All Powerful,
All Omniscient, All Omnipotent – 
Yah, yah, we’ve heard all of that, all of that –
so isn’t it surprising
that what happens next,
God knows not.
Think about it – 
when we say that God 
has infinite knowledge and power – 
it’s like saying that the ocean 
is infinitely wet
just because it holds all the water.
Surprise.

God is still surprised.
Even with all of this all-ness,
God needs to let it play out – 
wants to see what happens.
And hopes someday
to be pleasantly surprised
when good comes out on top.

September 2014 North Andover, Mass.
Copyright by Mark Bohrer






Waiting In The Colonial Churchyard (poem)

Waiting In The Colonial Churchyard


Waiting in the churchyard
For something to save me
Waiting in the churchyard
Stillness comes to me

Here is the quiet steady God of Franklin and Jefferson
Persistent as the field grass
Good unbidden, though not undeserved
Mine to have, yours as well
God in the world
To be gathered like wild wheat
Nature’s honey or free grown grapes
Like the colonist’s self-reliance
I am better saved if I save myself
But isn’t that gift of salvation
Still freely provided, wildly sown for me?
To be saved from myself, by myself
God still rightly gets the kudos
God in the world
God of the world
God for the world
God in us
God of us
God for us
Stillness in the churchyard is what I see
Quiet goodness is what I feel
I am glad

June 2014   North Andover, Mass.
Copyright by Mark Bohrer

Church Hour (poem)

Church Hour



This one hour
This view from the center
A feeling of movement all around
But here, this calm center
Around which everything pivots
The center of this week
The center of this wheel
The center holds
I feel it now
Centripetal force now
Not the common opposite
Here things don’t fly apart
They come together
Like the sun with his careful hold
On those wanderers in the far sky
He holds, she holds, they hold
The spirit holds
This calming center
Such jovial gravity 
Fills and holds this quiet center
All at once
Joyous, brimming, bursting, buzzing
Glowing, swelling, soaring, singing
Joyous 
Together


June 2014 North Andover, Mass.

Copyright by Mark Bohrer

PS This was written on a church bulletin while sitting in South Church before the Sunday service started, listening to the choir and organist rehearse, the indistinct background talk of friends greeting one another, the swirl of people gathering in faith. If you ever see me scribbling notes while sitting in church, it's usually because something has inspired me! I shared this poem with Pastor Dana, and then had the privilege and joy of reading it a few months later in front of the church as part of service!