"...the theopoetic..."

I found that lovely term in the book, The Blue Sapphire of the Mind: Toward a Contemplative Ecology, by Douglas Christie (Oxford). It is a very slow read - because it is profound, and it is beautifully written.

The passages copied below are from his chapter, "Logos: The Song of the World," and this morning they struck me as a powerful undertone for Wednesday's post written in the afterglow of the Blood Moon, of that moment of exchange between my niece and I 75 miles apart from each other, how she gave the prompt and I found the poem, the poem being in the lines of her email message and in that moment of encounter with the full moon setting in the west in full eclipse, dimmed by the shadow of Earth is it turned toward the sun, and in the encounters between mother and daughter, then beloved niece and her aunt... in other words, in the Word that resided in all those permeable, fluid, liminal spaces, those moments of connection where boundaries are suddenly revealed as permeable and full of "evolutionary potential:"

Wednesday morning - how an email exchange becomes a poem

I've been in a great writing mode lately, which is like having a fever that won't stay down because I have not had the time to write that I need in order to cool it off. Sometimes the creative juices will drive a person crazy when it gets all bottled up. A few recent poems came so easily that I had to stop myself and say, they cannot possibly be any good.

So I took them to my critique group and, with a few tweaks, they're done and I'm quite proud of them. Turned out they really are pretty good.

This morning, I got up very early to view the Blood Moon, the total eclipse of the setting full moon in the pre-dawn hours. Boy, was that worth the alarm clock calling me out of a deep, restful sleep! Even in the city here, the stars were brilliant, the enormous Big Dipper hanging handle down in the north sky, Orion in his glory, the Pleiades sparkling.