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Tag: suffering

Beauty/Contemplation/Environment/Hope/Love/Mercy/Spirituality

Let Jack and Mavis take you to church

Posted on June 17, 2016 by stephen t berg / 3 Comments

I walked outside at four in the morning, stepped down off the deck and rounded the cabin. The birds had started their predawn songs. Two robins in particular we...

Nature/Peace/Poetics/Spirituality

A deer in the clearing

Posted on September 10, 2015 by stephen t berg / 10 Comments

Earlier in the year, while still “weed inspecting,” I had a sort of engagement with the white-tailed deer in this picture. I’ve never been anything like a “whis...

Christianity/Environment/Family/Love/Mercy/Poetics

An open letter to the Lord God complaining about the abundance of sickness and suffering

Posted on August 12, 2015 by stephen t berg / 9 Comments

Let me begin by thanking you for delight. For I’ve sat in city parks listening to stories from mouths and eyes that know the earth, and at moments, the wo...

Mercy/Poetics/Spirituality

For those who sow in tears

Posted on November 28, 2012 by stephen t berg / 6 Comments

Sow broken harp and bitter note, sow sighing of the open throat. Sow crutch and cane and pawing pain, on starless night in razor rain. Sow hate with hope for ha...

Over the coming months, I’ll be slowly retiring Grow Mercy. This Easter marks 20 years and some 1500 posts. (And here, a deep bow to you, for reading and/or responding.) I’ll not, however, be retiring the impulse behind Grow Mercy, but will be shifting, exploring, following a hybridized urge, and a genre to suit. For me, what these decades have increasingly revealed is how writing is a spiritual path. Now, for whatever time and energy remains for me, I’ll be tilting more toward The Ragged Psalmist, still inchoate, but the handle feels like it fits. I do hope you’ll subscribe.

Why — The Ragged Psalmist?

Because some stubborn ember, still warm, compels me to write some cobbled songs — praise and lament, cries and sighs — and sound them back to the sacred Mystery.

To throw a wrench into a world geared up for business; to resist the moneychangers in their corporate temples — because poetry is political, and light is its administrative wing.

Because old lies and old words screw us over and must be remade to tell the truth; because our glossary of mockery needs burial, and the lexicon that’s left needs anointing.

To strive to honour the life of a sparrow; attend the spell of a dead star — whose light we still see; to feel, down to the bone, the quantum foam, we all flail in.

To thicken compassion and thin out aggression; to oppose injustice and hate in a way that excludes no one, not even the hater.

To let failure, discouragement, suffering and perishing have their say, without any spoon of bromide; to let joy, delight, and beauty come as they may.

To penetrate darkness and delusion — and so discover all this love in us.

Because mindfulness and mercy need constant oxygen.

Because in the time that’s left I want to tattoo the implications of our “forgiving victim” on the body suit of my heart.

Because reality points to unity — and we must hurry to catch up.

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