“Sabbath is a weekly invitation to go nowhere, to believe that hiddenness is part of presence,” writes L.L. Barkat in God in the Yard: Spiritual Practice for the Rest of Us.This isn’t so much about the Sabbath being a time to rest so you can be more productive the rest of the week, …”but more in the sense of rhythm that sees nowhere-somewhere, presence-hiddenness, as inextricably linked, with God on both sides of the dance.”
And where she finds the strongest analogy is in her journey with poetry.
Sabbaths, or Sundays, for me are (usually) the slowest day of the week. There’s a routine: church, lunch out somewhere, nap, some writing, working out at the Y (or a bike ride), maybe some yard work like heading back the roses, reading and some more writing. It doesn’t sound slow, but it is. And it’s quiet. Sundays are (usually) the quietest day of the week around our house. But it’s definitely slower-paced than the rest of the week.
And Sunday, for me, is about poetry. Reading it and writing it.
This started more than a year ago. And during the pastor’s sermon, no less. He said some things as I was taking notes, and I saw that my notes began to look something like a poem.Later, I played with it some, and it became a poem.
What’s happened in the interim is that I now firmly connect Sundays, worship and poetry, which I could call “Sabbath and Verse.”
Here’s what I wrote this past Sunday.
Sprinklers on Sunday
I set the sprinklers out because
we needed rain, and
it did. Later
the rain washed the stones
and the colored
panes of polished sand,
cocooning the living hearts