Category Archives: Poetry

The Contract: A Word From the Led

Posted on December 21, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

We often think of leadership from the perspective of the person in charge. What about those who follow? What does it mean to be led by a particular person? I find, at times, that I get in a hurry to lead and forget to listen which is such an important part of leadership.

William Ayot provided this insightful poem which offers advice for the leader through the eyes of the follower. Leadership is about serving and mindfulness which intersect with integrity.

And in the end we follow them –

not because we are paid,

not because we might see some advantage,

not because of the things they have accomplished,

not even because of the dreams they dream

but simply because of who they are:

the man, the woman, the leader, the boss,

standing up there when the wave hits the rock,

passing out faith and confidence like life jackets,

knowing the currents, holding the doubts,

imagining the delights and terrors of every landfall;

captain, pirate, and parent by turns,

the bearer of our countless hopes and expectations,

We give them our trust. We give them our effort.

What we ask in return is that they stay true.

15 Comments

Posted in Community, Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged community, creativity, leadership, Mindful Practice, poetry, servant-leadership, teacher as transformer, The Contract: A Word from the Led, William Ayot. Bookmark the permalink.

Self Discovery

Posted on December 18, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

As I wander through life, I realize it is always a process of self discovery and accepting imperfection that is perfect in itself. It is all there and is real. It is not about finding something that is ideal,but accepting that which is. That makes life worth whiling over.

Discover self–

Imperfect, unrefined;

Genuine, real–

Not hidden;

Unvarnished, vulnerable.

Happiness appears;

Refuge

Falsehoods recede–

Ever so slowly,

Spirit wakens–

Revitalized and awake.

14 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, Mindful Practice, poetry, Self Discovery, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Old Poets of China

Posted on December 17, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I am back including my posts. Mary Oliver wrote this beautiful and short poem which points out the need for quiet time. I accomplished a lot during my break. I flew home twice and am back in Edmonton for Christmas. I spent the time away from the blog completing the course work and getting ready for the next part of the journey: my dissertation writing.

Wherever I am, the world comes after me.

It offers me its busyness. It does not believe

that I do not want it. Now I understand

why the old poets of China went so far and high

into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.

33 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, Mary Oliver, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, sabbath, teacher as transformer, The Old Poets of China. Bookmark the permalink.

I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great

Posted on November 19, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

It is the end of a long and busy day. I chose this poem as it explored the need to remember who we are and what we belong to, that which went before us. Stephen Spender suggested it is remembering soul’s history and listen for it in the world.

I think continually of those who were truly great.

Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history

Through corridors of light where the hours are suns

Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition

Was that their lips, still touched with fire,

Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.

And those who hoarded from the Spring branches

The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget

The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs

Breaking through rocks in the worlds before our earth.

Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light

Nor its grave evening demand for love.

Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother

With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields

See how these names are listed by the waving grass

And by the streamers of white cloud

And whispers of wind in the listening sky.

The names of those who in their lives fought for life

Who wore at their hearts the fire’s center.

Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,

And left the vivid air signified with their honor.

19 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great, Mindful Practice, poetry, spirituality, Stephen Spender, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Parable

Posted on November 17, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

As I check out for Sabbath, I came across this playful poem by Richard Wilbur. Some days, it is nice to allow the horse to find the way home. It would our personal quixotic and random journey on that given day.

I found this poem n a book about reading and writing poetry called Rules for the Dance by Mary Oliver. The great poets have an eye for great poetry. Life is a dance that brings its own rules.

I read how Quixote in his random ride

Came to a crossing once, and lest he lose

The purity of chance, would not decide

Whither to fare, but wished his horse to choose.

For glory lay wherever he might turn.

His head was light with pride, his horse’s shoes

Were heavy, and he headed for the barn.

5 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, Don Quixote, Mary Oliver, Mindful Practice, Parable, poetry, Richard Wilbur, sabbath, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

My November Guest

Posted on November 15, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

Winter approaches. Today, was a dreary day and the trees are becoming littered on the ground as their leaves fall. Yet, as Robert Frost pointed out, there is something lovely in the barrenness of November days. This reminds me that, as fall turns to winter, of a need for the seasonal shifts that bring new life into the world. It is part of the healing process nature provides.

My Sorrow, when she’s there with me,

Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

Are beautiful as days can be;

She loves the bare, the withered tree;

She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay,

She talks and I am fain to list;

She’s glad the birds have gone way.

She’s glad her simple worsted gray

Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,

The faded earth, the heavy sky,

The beauties she so truly sees,

She thinks I have no eye for these,

And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday, I learned to know

The love of bare November days

Before the coming of the snow,

But it were vain to tell her so,

And they are better for her praise.

17 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, Mindful Practice, My November Guest, poetry, Robert Frost, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Love After Love

Posted on November 13, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I have thought about this poem a lot lately. It just keeps popping into my head during quiet times. It is a beautiful poem by Derek Walcott. Whenever I read it, it reminds each moment is a fresh beginning and it passes with its own truth contained within it.

As I mature, I get a sense of both getting to know me better and, at the same, realizing how little I know about myself. These feelings would feel counter-intuitive if they did not feel so right.

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

30 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, Derek Walcott, Love After Love, Mindful Practice, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Opening of Eyes

Posted on November 12, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I spent a great two weeks at home. I concluded my time away with a wonderful weekend in Seattle where I attended a poetry weekend, along with about 150 others, facilitated by David Whyte. A major theme was asking beautiful questions: questions we need to ask that show stories in our lives that are possibly outdated. We open our eyes for what appears to be the first time and there is a renewal.

An important part of beautiful questions is they guide us towards new horizons. We feel grounded by home’s foundations and drawn forward from that stable place in imaginative ways. There is something spiritual and biblical about this feeling as we find the courage in our hearts to let go in ways we had never imagined possible.

That day I saw beneath dark clouds

the passing light over the water

and I heard the voice of the world speak out,

I knew then, as I had before,

life is no passing memory of what has been

nor the remaining pages of a great book

waiting to be read.

It is the opening of eyes long closed.

It is the vision of far off things

seen for the silence they hold.

It is the heart after years

of secret conversing

speaking out loud in the clear air.

It is Moses in the desert

fallen to his knees before the lit bush.

It is the man throwing away his shoes

as if to enter heaven

and finding himself astonished,

opened at last,

fallen in love with solid ground.

29 Comments

Posted in Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged beautiful questions, creativity, David Whyte, eloquent questions, Mindful Practice, Moses, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer, The Opening of Eyes. Bookmark the permalink.

Shepherd

Posted on October 26, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I have a three-week break and will head home for a couple of weeks on Monday, so will be offline for a couple of days. It is a longer sabbath than normal, but it will be a long day on Monday. The wanderer is going from thought country and will find his way home as William Stafford suggested in this poem. We are each shepherded home in some fashion, at some time.

According to the silence, winter has arrived—

a special kind of winter. I, its inventor,

watch it freeze in calendars and stare

out of clocks. I do not feel its cold.

Across a certain farm evening crows go flying,

intervals of the sky that I have seen before,

the bearing of a river. I advance, a wanderer

out of thought country, that serious quiet place,

Till according to the silence all the light is gone

and according to the dark all wanderers are home.

27 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, Mindful Practice, poetry, Shepherd, spirituality, teacher as transformer, William Stafford. Bookmark the permalink.

I Go Among Trees

Posted on October 23, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I begin with an apology to followers. The email feed of those who I follow has not worked the last two days. This is the second this has happened in the last couple of months. I am not sure what has caused the malfunction at the junction, but I will look into it this weekend after my classes wrap up for the week.

Wendell Berry wrote this poem about taking time and waiting for the right time to do the work. It has been busy and I will have time with a three-week break from classes to sit among the trees hopefully literally and figuratively

I go among the trees and sit still

All my stirring becomes quiet

around me like circles on water.

My tasks lie in their places

Where I left them, asleep like cattle…

Then what is afraid of me comes

and lives a while in my sight.

What it fears in me leaves me,

and the fear of me leaves it.

It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes.

I live for a while in its sight.