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Showing posts with label National Poetry Month. Show all posts
Showing posts with label National Poetry Month. Show all posts

Thursday, April 24, 2014

"Red Wood Tree" A Poem by Danielle Moragne, SHP'13

Photo taken July 2013 during the Society of the Sacred Heart Spirituality Forum hosted at
Sacred Heart Schools ~ Atherton, Calf near Oakwood, the RSCJ Retirement Community

RED WOOD TREE

The rustic bark
compresses under my fingertips
as my hands slide into the 
crevices of the frayed protective layer.
The environment and wind have taken their toll
as they anxiously try to hug
this magnificent entity.

Surrounded by redwood trees,
my vision blurs.
My head spins,
deep green pines,
calming blue-gray sky,
red bark,
then stillness

Looking up, the scent of evergreens
descends into my nose,
the cannons of bark stretching out above me.
I am walking up that ladder
of branches,
slowly floating higher
and higher
to that ever present warmth, comfort, and serenity,
until every thought is dissolved.
I have reached my inner peace.

~ Danielle Moragne, SHP'13


Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture.  If you have a favorite poem written by an alum or RSCJ that you would like to share, please send to AASH PAST PRESIDENT MER 

Sunday, April 20, 2014

"Easter Sunday Resurrection", A Poem by Elizabeth Grantham, RSCJ



Easter Sunday

Resurrection

Tears and peace are one
Where you break through the walls that fear raised high
To touch the cowering self and bid come forth
Lazarus from the tomb, securely seated,
to recognize the Lord of life and love
And all of the wondrous openings
To freedom and to wholeness and to peace.
Joy grows and swells and fills the very earth
With tears of recognition:
"I am thou and thou art me"  and this is life
In all its tangled roots and thrusting stems,
Opening to flowers bearing fruit
That all may pluck and eat.
"This is my body, given for you."
"Drink of this cup, my outpoured life,
That you may live abundantly anew.
This is my gift; do as I do.
Be me, for I am with you
And life is yours."


Elizabeth Grantham, R.S.C.J.
Province of England - Wales



Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture.  If you have a favorite poem written by an alum or RSCJ that you would like to share, please send to AASH PAST PRESIDENT MER 

Saturday, April 19, 2014

"Easter Reflection" A Poem by April O'Leary, RSCJ


Sacred Heart of Jesus Statue - Bloomfield Hills, MI


High on the clean and wind-washed hills
Christ in His beauty stands
And looks on the jewel He loves to hold
In His sheltering and nail-pierced hands

The rustling tree-tops softly stir
in whispering and hushed surprise
the flowers at His feet look up and see
their reflection in Love’s own eyes.

Lovely the wind in the pale smooth grass,
and the hills in their shadow filled folds,
and lovely the light on the tumbled clouds
that reflects on the jewel He holds.

Christ in His radiance walks the woods
and looks on His house with love
and the peace of his passing lingers long
in the wind smoothed hills above.

                                ---Poem written in 1949 by April O'Leary, RSCJ (1922-2013)
Province of England - Wales


Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture.  If you have a favorite poem written by an alum or RSCJ that you would like to share, please send to AASH PAST PRESIDENT MER

Friday, April 18, 2014

"Sixth Station" A Poem by Anna Mae Marheineke, RSCJ

Taken from the book "Smile the Sun Around My Heart"
The Collection of Poems of Anna Mae Marheineke, RSCJ
.


Sixth Station

The dark has lifted
for a moment now,
and film of dirt and sweat,
blurring His eye focus
to make crazy patterns on the road,
he cleared.
Too cool clean cloth
feels sweet against His face -
He remembers His mother
had the same gentleness in her touch
when she had washed from Him
the grime a child's play made,
these many years ago,
and held a fresh white towel
close. This towel, too He sees 
is white.
The road no longer blurs
and rocks before His eyes.
He tries to smile a little 
across the pain that cracks His lips,
and hands the woman's kerchief
back to her.
His dark eyes look, then, into hers.
He leaves remembrance
of HIs gratitude indelible
upon her towel's whiteness, and carries
indelible upon His Heart
Veronica's gentle act of courtesy.

~   Anna Mae Marheineke, RSCJ


Note: Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture.  Today's blog post is a poem taken from the book "Smile the Sun Around My Heart" The Collection of Poems of Anna Mae Marheineke, RSCJ.  Sr. Marheineke (1917-2013) was a 1934 alumna of the Academy of Saint Charles.  If you wish to purchase a copy of Sr. Marheineke's collection of poems look under the heading on the right "Books by Sacred Heart Alum Authors" and click on the link to her book.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

"Coast Live Oak" A Poem by Danielle Moragne, SHP'13



Photo taken July 2013 on the grounds of Sacred Heart Schools ~ Atherton, Calf
near Oakwood, the RSCJ Retirement Community


Coast Live Oak


A trunk
massive, contorted, and gnarled
splits and cuts its way into the sky,
demanding its place in the earth by spreading its roots.
Thick at first, then wean away,
like capillaries.

Though native only to the
Golden Coast,
the wide canopy,
dark leaves, and grand stature 
forge the confidence of a continent,
reminding us that we must respect
what we cannot change, and
that we must praise
that which is
greater
than we.

~ Danielle Moragne, SHP '13

Friday, April 11, 2014

The Conge - A Poem by Kate O' Flaherty Chopin

Kate O'Flaherty Chopin
Sacred Heart Alumna, St. Louis - Class of 1898


The Congé – 1867


The Congé is past and the frolic and fun
Was over, before it seemed scarcely begun;
For with playing and romping and teasing away,
The quick fleeting hours soon filled up the day.
But the morning was not to amusement devoted
For Madam to all of her “Brights” had allotted
The task (this displayed a heart ever trusting)
Of arranging and breaking and mending and dusting,
Her chemical tools, which of delicate make
We could easily handle and --- easily break.
There was Lizzie who thought with importance of air
That we could do nothing if she was not there,
And Frank --- thinking much, and speaking but little
Who handled with safety tools e’en the most brittle
While Katie O’F, poor unfortunate lass
Broke implements stoutest as though they were glass.
But this war of destruction, thanks, soon was to cease
And the room and its contents left happily in peace.
For kind Madam Hamilton, with due form and state,
Announced the dinner no longer could wait,
And arranging the girls with artistical taste,
Led the way to the hall without trouble or haste.
But ye Fates! On arriving I found ‘twas my doom
For what I presume of more benches or room,
To sit between Lizzie and Nina my cousin
Who seemed to have appetites due to a dozen,
And gave me scarce time to breathe or to think
With asking for butter --- the bread ---or a drink.
But between these demands which indeed were not few,
I found time to admire an arrangement or two
Of the garlands of flowers and pigs a la fry
Which in every direction were greeting the eye.
But all these howe’er beautiful sink into nought,
In considering the fun which the afternoon brought;
For through cellar and basement and garret so high,
We tumbled and tossed in the game of “I spy.”
Now into the barn yard --- the loft or the stable,
Hiding in every place ---any place that we were able;
And thrown into ecstasies of foolish delight
At not being found or at seeking aright.
But at length Madam M. with mysterious air,
Comes whispering that the girls must prepare
To enter a room, shut out from all light,
To see a strange thing ___ a most wonderful sight;
Which sight we soon found was a new source of pleasure
Got up by “our Madam” whose mind is a treasure,
Ever teeming with jewels of science and fun,
And in whom we all think sets and rises the sun.
‘Twas a strange magic lantern which displayed a queer sight
Of devils in every conceivable plight.
Of hills and volcanoes; St. Peter’s at Rome;
Of Pantheons at Paris --- or a neat cottage home.
Of monkies and tigers and elephants rare ---
All displayed with precision and mentioned with care.
When, at the best part we are told we must leave;
For fear that the already fast fading light
Would leave us in fear at the coming of night.
And as I reluctantly arose to obey,
Though my reason said “homeward” my heard bade me stay.
So greatly put out --- nearly ready to cry,
I kissed my companions --- bade Madam good bye ---
And secretly knowing I’d no time to waste
Turned my steps towards home with all possible haste.


                                                      Written in 1867 By Kate O’Flaherty

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Crow Song by Zoe Keithley

Zoe Marhoefer Keithely, attended Sacred Heart Lake Forest (1947-1951)


The little child's bones
inside me rattle and cavort,
play music when I walk.
The eros of the great engine
is their familiar; and how,
never sleeping, it draws
the juice along to force it
through the many narrows.
Again the ancient seeds
sprout in the collar of silt.
Oh, I am the holy child dancing
on the rim of the earth.
Forever is my name.

Poem by Zoe Keithley taken from Crow Song, Roan Press, 2009 

For further info on Zoe Keithley and her upcoming Roots Writer Series & Workshop on April 26, 2014 in Chicago, IL ~ click here. 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

A poem by Louise Imogen Guiney - "John Brown: A Paradox"

Louise Imogen Guiney
(1861-1920)
Alumna of Sacred Heart 


John Brown: A Paradox

BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY
Compassionate eyes had our brave John Brown,
And a craggy stern forehead, a militant frown;
He, the storm-bow of peace. Give him volley on volley,
The fool who redeemed us once of our folly,
And the smiter that healed us, our right John Brown!


Too vehement, verily, was John Brown!
For waiting is statesmanlike; his the renown
Of the holy rash arm, the equipper and starter
Of freedmen; aye, call him fanatic and martyr:
He can carry both halos, our plain John Brown.


A scandalous stumbling-block was John Brown,
And a jeer; but ah! soon from the terrified town,
In his bleeding track made over hilltop and hollow,
Wise armies and councils were eager to follow,
And the children’s lips chanted our lost John Brown.


Star-led for us, stumbled and groped John Brown,
Star-led, in the awful morasses to drown;
And the trumpet that rang for a nation’s upheaval,
From the thought that was just, thro’ the deed that was evil,
Was blown with the breath of this dumb John Brown!


Bared heads and a pledge unto mad John Brown!
Now the curse is allayed, now the dragon is down,
Now we see, clear enough, looking back at the onset,
Christianity’s flood-tide and Chivalry’s sunset
In the old broken heart of our hanged John Brown!
Source: She Wields a Pen: American Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century (University of Iowa Press, 1997)


Friday, April 4, 2014

Trees - A poem by April O'Leary, RSCJ

Japanese Maple (Acer palmatum)
Sacred Heart Schools Atherton Campus


Trees have a way
of teaching us the deepest things.
Seasonally, quietly, they demonstrate their truths.
You must endure,
(trees say) bow down, give way, accept
when from the North ice-laden winds oppress.
You must release
what you with year-long love watched slowly grow,
when at the summer's end green leaves turn sere.
The darkest times
these are, watching your hope's fulfilment drift away,
when all the best you strove for, you renounce.
- But then, trees say,
think of that rare delight when buds, in Spring, define
on desiccated boughs their glory once again.




Written in 1968 by April O'Leary , RSCJ (1922-2013)
Province of England - Wales

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Celebrating National Poetry Month with Favorite Poems Authored by Sacred Heart Alums and RSCJ

In 1996 the Academy of American Poets inaugarated April as National Poetry Month.  So throughout this month I will showcase poetry authored by Sacred Heart alums and RSCJ.  To start off the month, I have selected a well known poem that was written by Mother Stuart.  This year we celebrate the Centenary of Janet Erskine Stuart 's death through October 21, 2014.  Click here for further info.




SONG OF THE SWAN

Spirit seeking light and beauty,
   Heart that longest for thy rest,
Soul that askest understanding,
   Only thus can ye be blest.

All the joy and all the fairness
   Fade away from earth's delight
By the steadfast contemplation
   Of the glory out of sight.

Through the vastness of creation
   Though your restless thought may roam,
God is all that you can long for,
   God is all His creature's home.

Taste and see Him, feel and hear Him,
   Hope and clasp His unseen hand.
Though the darkness seem to hide Him
   Faith and love can understand.

God, who loves all Thy creatures,
   All our hearts are known to Thee,
Lead us through the land of shadows
   To They blest eternity!

 Written by Janet Erskine Stuart, RSCJ
Sixth Superior General of the Society of the Sacred Heart (1857 -1914)


The above poem was taken from the book The Fable of the Ugly Duckling from Highways and By-Ways in the Spiritual Life by Janet Erskine Stuart (Longmans, Green and Co. London 1923)

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Happiness - A Poem by April O'Leary, RSCJ

The Happy Faces of Sacred Heart Schools Chicago -  "Brownie Troop"



Happiness

The mad philosopher

nibbling peanuts, feeding

lettuce to his

tortoise, chocolate

beans

to children button-eyed

with wonder,

burrowing into skies

like velvet

with a telescope

once used

at Trafalgar



is happy

to advance the cause

of happiness

by being

happy


April O'Leary , RSCJ (1922-2013)

Province of England - Wales

As we end National Poetry Month and enter the Merry Month of May how providential that I should discover this evening a lovely poem written by Sr. April O'Leary. The photo above is taken from Sacred Heart Schools Chicago and shows the very happy faces of the Brownie Troop. 

More about Sr. April O'Leary taken from the Society of the Sacred Heart England & Wales website is below. 

Born in 1922, April was one of 34 cousins to be educated at Sacred Heart schools, like their mothers and grandmother. During the Second World War she worked on farms as a "land girl", then in a NAAFI canteen and an aircraft factory before joining the Society in 1946. She made her first vows in September 1948 - 65 years ago - and was finally professed in 1955.

April
April read English Literature at Oxford, and taught this for many years at our schools  in Hove, Tunbridge Wells and St Julian's in Malta, and at Digby Stuart College. She later moved into spirituality work, spending seven years as part of our community at Llannerchwen, near Brecon, and then at Marden Lodge, in the grounds of Woldingham School. Both were rural locations, which the former "land girl" enjoyed immensely. In 2010 ill health meant a move to Duchesne House, where she died after a short illness.

Among other things April was a gifted writer and poet, and it is fitting that she should express herself in her own words. You can read her account of her vocation here, and some of her poetry here and here.
Several years ago, when a young sister made her first vows, April sent her a quote, from Julian of Norwich, which meant a lot to her. We can be sure that when April arrived in the fullness of God's presence, she heard these words once more:
My darling I am glad that thou art come to me, in all thy woe I have been ever with thee, now seest thou my loving, and we be oned in bliss.