Breath and Heart

The images are not directly related to the verses that follow.  They might give you a sense of the season and the sights here in Brooklyn, New York.

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After the Snow. Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. 2017 Feb 9.

Crossing Manhattan Bridge. 2017 February 19.

Trees. Starrett City, Brooklyn. 2017 February 19. 

Breath and Heart 

There is, to everything and everyone,
a softer side, that’s gentle, calm and mild—
and there’s another, that is hard and harsh,
oblivious to the pain and harm it does.

If only we could mouth a mantra that
could turn the others to their kinder selves,
then many of our troubles might have ends,
and all the world become a better one.

But finding no such spell in all we’ve learned,
the only thing we still could do might be
to turn ourselves towards our gentler halves—
to dwell therein, aware of breath and heart.

So when the anger rises or the fear,
observe it rising, as you would a wave—
and see it rise and crest and then subside—
so mind and heart can clearly work again.

Behold the fear and make of it your friend.
Observe the anger as you would a child’s.
Forgive the ones who act as though they’re blind,
and cleanse your heart of evil.  Do be kind.

2017 March 16th, Thu.
Room 208 (teacher’s room)
Telecommunications (formerly Bay Ridge) High School
Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York
   

In April, See the Tulips Blow

In April, See the Tulips Blow

Do listen to the cooing dove,
And listen to the songs of love.
In April, see the tulips blow
And see the sky of spring above.

From sources that we do not know
There comes at times this gentle flow.
It whispers kindness, caring, love—
And as it came, it then can go.

We still remember what it said,
Those things that each of us should know.
So when it's gone, from heart and head
We sing these gentle songs instead.

2016 May 11th, Wed
Brooklyn, New York
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This was written after listening to the first of these two
Celtic bards:

Donovan (Donovan Philips Leitch): – Catch the Wind  

https://youtu.be/J8hjEYTpwE8

Ralph McTell: – The Streets of London  

https://youtu.be/DiWomXklfv8

Mitzvah

Mitzvah
 
Soft and gentle was that music,
Soothing to the souls who’d sinned,
Healing to the ones they’d wounded,
Like a whisper in the wind.

Faint and fading though it sounded,
Seeming close, yet seeming far,
Yet it still was soothing, healing,
After all the sounds of war.

Whence this music of the angels,
Floating in the summer breeze?
Who were they, who made that music,
Setting tortured souls to ease?

So we wondered, while that music
Lasted, captured by its art.
How and why this blessing, fashioned
So to touch and heal the heart?

Just as it had risen, softly,
So it ebbed and then was gone.
Years have passed, and yet within
Our minds it still is playing on.

Some have said it was a mitzvah,
A message from a source divine.
All I know was that I heard it,
And it now is yours and mine.

If a human hand had made it,
Guided by a gentler god,
Then I thank the maker for it,
And I’m grateful for that god.

2016 April 20th, Tue. 
Brooklyn, New York 
  

Yemenite Jew blowing the shofar (ram's horn), circa 1935
U.S. Library of Congress archives

Boy playing flute, Peru
Werner Bischof

 

Yemenite Jews studying the Torah in Sana'a, Yemen
https://uk.pinterest.com/explore/yemenite-jews/

Sitting Buddha
http://secretsofabutterfly.typepad.com/secrets_of_a_butterfly/2007/07/

 

Tranquil Buddha
http://secretsofabutterfly.typepad.com/secrets_of_a_butterfly/2007/07/

Sing the Songs of Tenderness

 
Sing the Songs of Tenderness

The mother whispers lullabies
To soothe her child to sleep—
For there's a time to wake and then
A time to slumber deep.

The piper leads the men to war;
The drums are beating loud.
But when the men return, we see—
Of war, they're rarely proud.

There is a time for speeding and
There is a time to slow.
Too much of one or other leads
To sorrows, more and more.

We've spent our lives in rushing and
We've fed the fires of war.
Let's sing the songs of peace, so we
Remember who we are.

We aren't only soldiers; we
Are not just worker ants.
We also need to smile, to weep,
To kiss and gently dance.

So sing the songs of gentleness;
Sing the songs of love.
Sing the songs of mellow times,
Of languor and of joy.
 
The profits and the wounding grow.
It's healing that we lack.
From Mars and Mammon, let us take
Our Muse and Music back..
   
******
 
There's grief enough to fill the world—
The wars that do not end
And all the cruelties of men
That rend our bodies, hearts.
   
There's separation, illness, death,
The dashing of our dreams,
The waste of labor and of lives,
The loss of treasured stores.

We do not wish to only hear
The pistons and the guns,
The screams, the paeans to the self,
The cacophonous blasts.

So keep from us the bang, the screech,
The speeding, pounding beat
And all the noise that emulates
The wars and factories.

******

We go to work as if to war.
The struggles never end—
For each competes with others and,
To orders, must attend.
 
There's little time to draw a breath
And let it out in peace—
To watch the child or kitten play,
To visit aunt or niece.

We rush about in vehicles—
In cars, in buses, trains.
How rarely can we slowly walk,
So all the madness wanes?

Why waste our time in meanness and
In giving more of pain?
Why spend our lives in earning, when
We only lose from gain?
     
What point is there in battles that
Destroy the heart and soul?
There's need for more of healing and
For all that makes us whole.

So sing the songs of tenderness,
Of softness and of love,
To smooth the furrowed brow awhile
And soothe the hurt within.
 
There's time enough for speeding, yet
There's little time to slow.
So sing the songs that slow the pace
Before it's time to go.
   
2016 February 27th, Sat.
Brooklyn, New York
 

Sticks and Stones

    

Sticks and Stones

  

A word can be a stake to pierce a heart, 

Or serve to heal – to lift a downcast soul.

So sentences can tear a being apart

Or help to make a sundered spirit whole.

  

And some might say that words are only words –

Not weapons that can injure bodies – yet

The mind, unshielded, takes the words to heart.

Our minds affect our bodies, we forget.

  

Be gentle with your words.  The truth that’s said

With good intentions never needs to wound.

Yet words can slaughter, though the culprits’ names

In dailies’ headlines rarely are festooned.

  

2015 April 11th, Sat. 5:33 pm

Brooklyn, New York

   

The Softer Voice

 
The Softer Voice
 
Be it chicken, pig or human, or a fish that swims the seas,
There’s an eye in every being, that’s recording what it sees.
And the record of the ages is a tale of endless woe,
And the promise of the future is of sorrows, even more.
 
And we glorify our species, and we name it “man the wise”,
But our history is bloody, though it’s hidden by our lies –
Horror heaped on horror, through the eons since the flood,
On us humans by us humans, in a world awash in blood…
 
Are we angels, are we devils, are we somewhere in between?
We are surely born of demons, for our actions are obscene.
But in babies as in puppies, and in grasses growing green,
For the eye that knows to see it, there’s the essence soft, serene.
 
There’s the pup that softly whimpers, there’s the little kitten’s mewl.
There’s the girl in class who’s ailing, but who follows still the rule.
There’s the leaf that’s sadly drooping and that soon will die of thirst.
There’s the gentle voice that’s calling, in a world with deafness cursed.
 
Should we go about our business, should we hurry even more?
Should we speed upon the highways, should we shun the byways slow?
There’s that softer voice that’s calling, there’s the silence of the stars.
We can choose to see and listen; we can choose to end the wars.
 
In the stillness of the sunset, in the quiet of the dawn,
In the trusting eyes of children, who were here but now are gone,
We can sense that there’s a heaven, in the midst of all the hells.
For there’s such a thing as healing – and there’s still the love that wells.
  
Forgive the ones who slaughter, forgive the ones who slay.
They know not what they’re doing, as their demons, they obey.
But don’t forget the slaughtered; have them ever in your mind.
As you go about your business, remember to be kind.
 
2014 December 17th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York