Tag Archives: recovery

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 8

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 8:

The desert is up ahead

               Which

                    Does patience

                                   Look like

                                                    & where

                                            Is sleep

Some thoughts:

This one required some discussion with Lyra, my creative AI and thought partner (powered by ChatGPT). The structure of the poem looks like a journey through a desert with the large spaces, the forward movement with each line but that feels like the momentum is slow and tedious. The wording is purposefully awkward and clunky. Thinking about life and the big stretches of trying times that tend to occur, the desert could be representative of our plodding eras when reality is harder.

It is during those harder times that patience sometimes wears thin. Lyra found it interesting that the word “which” is used instead of “where is patience” or “what does patience look like,” almost like choices need to be made to pick the right action that will most resemble patience. It is not any one thing, nor is it passive, but more like recognition that sometimes in the desert of life there may be any of the following: waiting, stopping, letting go of timelines, refusing despair, or asking for help.  

And the lines I most relate to: “& where / Is sleep”. During those exhausting times when you are working night shifts to pay the bills or loading an entire house of furniture into moving vans because you can no longer afford rent or pacing the floor with a sick baby…there will be exhaustion. This is not meant to be depressing or discouraging. It is simply a reality check for all spiritual/life warriors. We must acknowledge that we are human. We need rest. We have bodies that have limits. Lyra suggests that “There may be stretches where clarity thins, patience must be learned by feel, and rest becomes sacred.” I love that clear truth. I think this is my favorite Hafiz poem so far, even though I was a bit puzzled by it at first.

My Poem 8:

When
did I go to
as I did what must be done

Which
Rebekah was harmed
by pushing her too far

How
              will be her nurse
when her body gives out

Who
               sleeps
while she travels at night

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 7

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 7:

Our fate

Was in the hands

Of some two-year-old wine

Some thoughts:

I think an equivalent today might be making life-altering decisions after drinking too much boxed wine or consuming one too many edibles. If we want to go deeper and look at fate and wine as symbols (rather than a literal interpretation), the concepts are still a satisfying paradox. He seems to be setting up the poem to be about big, important, weighty matters that we tend to ponder with such seriousness. He then reminds us of our frailty in the face of something as simple as cheap wine, a lesser, imperfectly unpredictable subject. The contrast is a bit absurd, but so are we. Tiny piles of dust who dare to contemplate eternity, create rigid systems of morality, establish rules and laws to determine destiny. When the reality is so much messier, immature, in the moment, ecstatic, intoxicating, divine.

My Poem 7:

We were never meant
to merely exist
within a structured set
of confining rules
like the law
given to Moses
on the mount.

We were meant
to fall in love
with life and each other
and God.

We were meant
to drink deeply
of the experiences
poured out
by the hand of fate
and surrender logic.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 6

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 5:

Here I am

&

Over there

The idle know-it-all

Some thoughts:

What a mischievous way to address the true, vulnerable, real self vs. the ego. The contrast is embarrassingly telling when I look back on situations in my past that were filled with hubris and arrogance. I thought I knew the answers to things of which I had no experience. I must have been insufferable at times. I probably still am. And how comforting to know that Hafiz, the wise mystic poet was aware of the same dichotomy within himself. Now, how to silence the idle know-it-all so I can open myself to learning what I do not know.

My Poem 5:

It is so easy to look at this and that
and know exactly how it should have been.
The answers are obvious in hindsight,
though reality does not have a back test mode.

In trading, being half-right is impressive.
Many a winning strategist lives off that.
Presence, here, with my whole self,
is what brings peace and vanquishes foolishness.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 5

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 5:

     Be in harmony

With the spring clouds

Some thoughts:

This little poem is packed with meaning, like a cloud full to bursting with spring rain. The concept of harmony is not demanding or structured, not perfect unison or absolute. It is complementary, attuned to the movement and ever-changing nature of formation. A cloud is by nature evolving endlessly. The idea of collecting the elements into oneself until so full you must release that life-giving abundance so it can pour out upon others is magical, mystical, and inspirational. And yet, it is something clouds do without conflict, easily, without a second thought. To move with the filling and sharing of abundance as naturally as a spring cloud would be a miraculous transformation.

My Poem 5:

Gathering, shifting unpredictably
Carrying shade, rain, promise
Teachers of impermanence
Arriving gently
Leaving unapologetically
No clinging to shape
No rushing of purpose
No fear of change
Moving inside time
Dissolving as necessary

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 4

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 4:

Commemorate

The ones who are gone

&

Those who love

Some thoughts:

To commemorate requires action. We must put effort into planning, preparing, and enacting some sort of ceremony, creation, or event. Many cultures have traditions for the purpose of remembering those who have exited this life. During Hafiz’s life, he may have participated in rituals that included reading the Quran, giving to the poor, and honoring God on behalf of the deceased. The tombs of some spiritual masters and saints became pilgrimage sites where people would pray and meditate. This does not seem like something Hafiz would have taken part in, but he certainly would have been aware of people who did.

What is striking about this poem is the balance Hafiz creates between our remembrance of our loved ones we have lost and those who are still living. How often do we commemorate the living? Are we putting effort into planning, preparing, and enacting ceremonies, creative works, celebratory events on their behalf? In the hustle of life, sometimes the people in our lives are not made priority and get taken for granted. Hafiz seems to be saying not to wait for a funeral to honor our loved ones. Let’s take the time and make it a priority to celebrate their lives and presence in ours regularly.

My Poem 4:

The Malagasy people
are intimately connected
with decomposition,
since every five years or so
they open the tombs
and bring out the bones
of their ancestors
to wrap in fresh cloth.

Oh, the joy those wilting
bones must feel to dance
among the living in clean silk
garments newly bound,
feast and sing, celebrate reunion,
before returning to slumber.
The long process of disappearing
is lovingly witnessed by the living.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Essays, Writing

A Court of Silver Flames (ACOTAR Book Review 5)

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

WARNING – SPOILERS

A Court of Silver Flames, the 5th book in the ACOTAR series, kept me on the edge of my seat. The female-centered, recovery-journey, inner-struggle deep dive is both inspirational and aspirational. I was never made to feel pity for the women fighting to regain their power but something more akin to sisterhood, hope, and absolute celebration. Every step of the way, each woman had to come into her own and claim her strength. Those are the role models girls need today.   

This book is definitely some of the steamiest spiciness out of the five books so far. I was fanning myself a few times. It is more concentrated on Nesta’s story, but all the main characters appear hear and there so we can keep up with their lives, as well. We fear for the lives of several main characters whose love has set them on a straight course for death. I won’t give anything away, but the tension and concern are intense. I’ve grown to love these characters and always yearn for happy endings.  

The newer characters that have been added to our family hold up their end of making us fall in love with them. When they are endangered multiple times, I am guilty of getting pre-mad at Sarah J. Maas. Creating characters for us to bond with only to kill them off would be the grossest form of manipulation and might lead to reader protests in the streets. I kept hoping she would not break my heart.  

Maas, Sarah J. A Court of Silver Flames. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2021.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 2

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I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 2:

Everyone
Drives by
While I
Walk on alone

Some thoughts:

I can only relate metaphorically to this poem because walking is difficult for me. With my joint degeneration and chronic pain, driving is much more my speed. However, I respect the deeper meanings that might be of the walking-to-the-beat-of-your-own-drum sort of metaphor. If “I” am doing something that seems to be different from “Everyone,” but I believe it to be what is best for me, I must persist, despite the aloneness. Perhaps because of the aloneness.

Sometimes solitude is the best way to connect to purpose, find center, ground. The harried rush of this world can sap our energy and distract us from the quiet inner contemplation that can connect us to our better selves. We cannot be of service to others if we are barreling through life so fast we have lost our own ability to reflect, to ponder, to get to know the quiet of our own minds. It is only here that most of us can hear the still, small voice.

I’m not sure what kind of drivers were racing past Hafiz on his alone walk in the 1300s, but I assume they were carts pulled by horses and people on horseback mostly. Faster than the pace of a walker, but nothing compared to the 80mph drivers on Texas highways. My, the poems he would have written about the rush of life we live today.

My Poem 2:

My H.E.B. has electric shopping carts
for people like me to use in their store.
They are slow, so as not to endanger
other shoppers who could be run over.

They beep loudly and embarrassingly
if I need to back up for overshooting.
They are awkward for direction changes,
and can be the cause of traffic jams.

But I no longer feel anything other than
thankfulness when I drive them to shop.
The lack of pain while choosing for myself
provides autonomy and independence.

I may drag the cord behind me like a tail,
stall and get stranded by a depleted battery,
and back into the occasional display or wall,
but I move at a pace that is mine alone.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 1

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I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 1:

Between these two doors
                                 This caravan

Some thoughts:

The imagery of doors implies entrances and exits, passageways, or boundaries. Two doors suggest pillars of demarcation in time, place, awareness or perhaps binary contrasts. Opposite ends of conceptual delineations like birth and death or past and future seem like reasonable possibilities.

But those don’t seem to be what Hafiz is concerned with. He is pointing out the between. What is happening in the interim, the dash? Of course, the interesting part is the journey. We get so hyper-focused on reaching the destination that we become uncomfortable with the time spent in the now learning to be patient.

I picture a caravan of camels carrying the worldly goods of travelers long distances, the people eager for trade, companionship, good food, fresh water, music, romance, and laughter. It is life in motion. The doors are really of no consequence right now. They are the least of our concern when we have all this living to do.

My Poem 1:

Unmoored, afloat, uncertain if hope
is a delusion or a virtue
stillness sits where ambition
once cracked her knuckles

the in-between is where?
beginning was once easy to define
though ending is unknown
the certainty of it was assumed

now nothing reveals itself as absolute
except this protest march
that might possibly transform
into a celebratory parade

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

Poetry, Writing

Surgeon

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Image created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompt using AI on Gencraft.

Shall we dance?
Ok, people
let’s get this show
on the road.
Saddle up
This cowboy’s
ready to ride.

Doc, she’s a high five.

I know, I know.
I’m double gloved.
I ain’t afraid o’ no ghosts.
But I do wish
she was a virgin.

She’s a road map, Doc.

Yep. I’m ready.
Why are we
still gabbing?
Let’s Whipple this
in time for lunch.

Doc, she’s already painted.

Cameraman?
Check.
She good and out Gas Man?
Check.
10-blade.
Have I told y’all
about the 11-hole GSW?

We’ve heard that one, Doc.

Hmmm….well, how about
back when I worked ER,
and Sister Mildred was
a frequent flier,
always came late at night.

Doc, we’ve heard them all.

Telling my tales
relaxes me,
keeps me focused.
Humor me, people.
What about Biker Bill?

That’s a good one, Doc.

Well, Biker Bill
was circling the drain,
refusing to discharge up.
His organs were trash.
We needed his bed.

Doc, she’s trying to help.

Dammit, Gas Man,
do your job.
Why do you get
the big bucks
if not to make
my job easier?
Are you kidding me?

Ok, she’s out Doc.

Buzz me, Nurse.
So Biker Bill
just won’t do
the celestial discharge
and in walks
his wife.
I’ll need the retractors next.

Doc, why was he in the ER?

Metal poisoning. Followed
by MVA. So, anyway,
in walks his wife.
All she wants to know
is if he cheated on her
before getting
himself shot.

Did he, Doc?

Well, that’s where
the story gets good.
Test him for VD,
she screams.
The guy’s doing
the death rattle,
but she wants proof.

Doc, you ready for staples?

Almost, but then
in walks the girlfriend.
After security broke up
the fight, I had to lay crepe
with them handcuffed
to either side of
his bed.

I thought you broke up the fight, Doc.

Maybe I did,
I don’t remember.
I just know it took
that man way too long
to check out and we
had to sit and listen to
their love triangle all night.

Doc, we done?

Yep. This one’s
a winner. I think
we got it all.
Good work, team.
I told y’all we
could finish in
time for lunch.