Hope-etry - The Gates of Hope
My friend
shared this beautiful poem with me...The Gates of Hope by Rev. Victoria StaffordOur mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope—
Not the prudent gates of Optimism,
Which are somewhat narrower.
Not the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense;
Nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness,
Which creak on shrill and angry hinges
(People cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through)
Nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of
“Everything is gonna’ be all right.”
But a different, sometimes lonely place,
The place of truth-telling,
About your own soul first of all and its condition.
The place of resistance and defiance,
The piece of ground from which you see the world
Both as it is and as it could be
As it will be;
The place from which you glimpse not only struggle,
But the joy of the struggle.
And we stand there, beckoning and calling,
Telling people what we are seeing
Asking people what they see.1
For me, when I read poetry, I try to let my imagination go to the images that emerge for me. With this poem, I imagined a widening - from a narrow set of gates that are human made to wide vistas that are not created by human hands but shaped by (as I have come to believe) the power and presence of a divine creator and the forces of nature. I saw those places where your view isn’t limited to just a small scene in front but instead seeing so much more. I love the second half of the poem that speaks of all the wide places that contain so much. A place of resistance and defiance and a place where one plants their feet to share. A place to see the world as it is and as it could be and as it will be. The place where we see struggle and the joy of struggle. The place where we share and we ask and we listen. In these careful, deliberate words...hope.
So, first a few vistas from our walk this morning. Not places with huge views but standing on a higher place and seeing more than just at ground level. Then some other vistas from years past.
What did you hear in the poem?
Today’s vistas:
Grace, Peace, Love, Hope, and Joy,
Ed
PS - Scout tried to get the turkey this morning but alas it was not to be…
https://ssir.org/articles/entry/the_gates_of_hope
I LOVE your accompanying photos. “You have set my feet in a broad place…” Psalm 31:8
The poem begins for me with the line, "But a different, sometimes lonely place" and everything after is my reflection in the mirror of this poem. "The place of truth telling about my own soul..." Truth telling has been important to me since my mother called me a liar whenever I used my imagination. I told stories to the neighbors about my family which were, of course, outlandish and funny to adults. I embarrassed her so I was tongue-lashed whenever imagination snuck out of my pen, or crayon, or mouth. Thankfully, I reached a point in my life when I knew she was nuts and I was just guarded around her. She never knew me and didn't deserve to. Truth is the first thing on my mind when I think about the status of my psyche and my soul. (There's a poem in there someplace.) When I speak and think truth, it just feels good even though people don't like what I say - often. I think about them the way I thought about my mother.
As always, your photos are life-giving.