Friday, October 26, 2012

A Gate Left Open

I haven't got alot to say often and though I love gardening it can be an effort to find something new to say each week. Having written poetry since I was a teenager, it's only appropriate I substitute a regular gardening post with an evocation of what it is that drives me, in this world, a sense of taking care, where taking care may be entirely unfashionable. It isn't for fashion that a garden is made, however much a garden uses fashion. A garden, to me, is always a gateway, a promise of regeneration, a view of things.


 

21 comments:

  1. Hello Faisal:
    As always, your poem strikes a chord. What is of interest here is that the 'garden' can become a metaphor for whatever the individual wishes, the important point being, as we see it, that one must be open to each and every one of life's experiences as and when they are offered. And from a personal viewpoint, which combines Roman Catholicism with High Anglicanism, then we should see it as endeavouring to follow in the ways of Christ and, certainly, allowing Him to enter into and, through faith, guide one's life. But possibly you did not mean any of this and you, and others, may completely disagree. But then there is joy to be found in various and diverging opinions which we hope we shall always welcome.

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  2. Hello Jane and Lance,
    yes, for me the garden is the state of the world, the wider state. How I care for it reflects upon me, and how that garden grows matters.
    You know, I'd say I was High Anglican, if I had to be anything. I find it difficult to fit into conventional religion, disliking being both control coming from outside myself and disliking the letting it all happen kind of thing. What alot of conventional church structure dislikes is originality. And the alternate churches welcome any old thing for publicity. I'd be in a neutral space.
    Yes, you're right, this is very much a religious, or, more properly, a spiritual poem.
    My whole life exists, and has only ever existed, out of the grace of the Almighty. If it were to be that I could wash the feet of Christ ( which humility is necessary to be human ), I could never believe myself worthy of the task.
    From what you've said, I take it that you too feel that to be in the presence of Christ our saviour is a condition that requires our utter selflessness.
    Life is a very serious process, and it's not always understood that to move forward we have to have an undying faith, and we may have to experience huge misfortune, and we may have to be exceedingly open.
    You two are on the way.
    Though I have relatives who are Evangelical, for me, I prefer something quieter and more solemn. Not that it matters.
    Love is at the core of Creation. Our Father would never have allowed all around us to exist if He'd not have loved. That was what I was getting at, in this poem.
    Love, it's an amazing thing.

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    1. Dear Faisal,

      Thank you so much for taking the time and trouble to respond to our comment in this most thoughtful [but we should not have expected any other way from you] and detailed manner. Whilst we attend St. Margaret's Anglican Church here in Budapest, we are equally happy to sit at the back of our local Catholic church where Mass is said, or sung, in Hungarian. In the main, rather as you, we find organised religion can be a little overwhelming. Also like you, for us spirituality is what matters and to be in possession of that inner peace which does, indeed, pass all understanding.

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    2. Dear Jane and Lance,
      it's never a trouble, really, to talk about what matters. I'd like to say I was peaceful all the time, but I'm a conflicted being, and that, really, is what helps me search. I can be high and I can be low. Juggling them lightly is what matters to me.
      I've wanted for years to go back to church but I haven't found the place to go to. I confess that I consider myself a proto-Muslim as well, which makes it all odd, for others, but not odd for me, given that the Source of all human guidance, however it's been delivered, is constant.
      It's marvellous, I reckon, that you're prepared to experience different forms of worship. Each experience tickles a different sensibility.
      Thankyou for responding so truthfully. I feel you're next door.

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    1. Hi Billy,
      that's nice of you mate. FIVE stars are a lot to live up to!

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    1. Thanks James. I hope all is fine for you weather-wise.

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  5. Faisal, Thank you for this beautiful reminder we are all simply keepers of the gardens. Have a restful weekend.

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    1. Bonnie, yes. And I could go on and say that in a sense we're all just keepers of our lives, and keepers of this precious life we've been given.
      I will indeed be having a restful weekend, as long as the work will allow me to!

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  6. I'm a fully grown-up man but I still miss my father! He went a long time ago... I guess that is why I read your poem in such a litteral way... Pain somehow shadowing my imagination. Nonetheless I agree with the five stars! Thanks!

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    1. Roger, thankyou. None of us wants to see someone close to us die. I hope it didn't hurt you to read my poem. It seems though that you loved your father, as I did mine. We become better people, I feel, through undergoing these transformations.
      I'm sure your father must have loved you.
      Faisal.

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  7. dear dear Faisal, your poetry, your philosophy of life, seems to me to fit perfectly with a garden blog, because gardens are much more than places for growing things. They have always had sacred meanings, and I can relate to the intense reverence in the poem, that I find incredibly powerful and moving. I agree with Billy's rating.

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    1. You know, Catmint, I can't claim to be anything much of a gardener, any more than I can claim to be much of a poet.
      Sacredness is about looking after life, so, among a community of gardeners, I take the risk there are people like yourself who are open to other forms of expression. My only aim is to deliver something that may flower, or grow, in a stimulating, worthwhile way. Yet keep real. Thankyou.

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  8. Dear Faisal,

    This is a lovely poem and I can see that it came from your heart. I am so glad that I discovered your blog!

    Gardens and spirituality - they are so inexplicably linked. St Teresa of Avila in writing of the practice of prayer, likened it to the maintaining of a garden. I loved this image and it helps to sustain me: the image of my prayerful soul as a garden in which God can walk. I just wish that I was better at it.

    Thanks again Faisal,

    Kirk

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  9. Dear Kirk,
    Probably my poetry is irritating, as it was when I began, at school, and posted it on the school newsboard, though apparently many of the masters were glad to see it revived as a public voice.
    I'm surprised how many young people have a feeling for poetry ( I work, a bit, in a bookshop ): it's one of the few things technology cannot kill! It's promising, I feel, that the young have more in their heads beside whatever's cool or hot or sick. But then the young were always our hope.
    I love the brevity of a poem. I love that it's like a gift or a bunch of flowers, just something you can take, without too much ceremony.
    I feel I have to honour what's real. To me, so much of this world is unreal. I cannot, for instance, understand politics. I am out there, in a paddock, no-one's around, and I'm spinning in a circle. But my muse knows what's going on.
    Thanks Kirk.

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    1. Dear Faisal,
      My late father wrote a lot of poetry. He wrote about things that moved his soul. My sister read aloud some of his gardening poetry, at his funeral. Gardens and poetry - they meant an awful lot to my father and this has been passed down to us, his children. This was another aspect to your post that brightened my day.
      Kirk
      PS
      You are modest - I don't find your poetry to be irritating at all - I rather like it.

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  10. Beautiful poem! Your garden sounds like a really magical place! Best.

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  11. Thankyou, Ngeun, twice! My best to you too.

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