When she was a little girl, Mary Earle’s maternal grandmother taught her to listen to the garden in her yard, the creek on the Texas hill country land, the wind in the trees and the stars. Her mother, Mary Colbert, started reading to her as soon as she could sit up, and her mother loved to read poetry out loud. The poems in this book are an offering that comes from years of listening to what the Irish call “the music of what happens.” Mary says, “My hope is that the poems will invite the reader to listen along with me to that music.”
I have loved poetry since I was a young girl, in part because it sings. Even when there isn’t a rhyme scheme, poetry is the fruit of us humans listening for the melody of the Great Song that sings everything into being. Poetry reminds us to listen. So, when I encounter a poem whose images and phrasing stir something within me, I am both listening to that Song, and invited to share its sacred melody.
So often a poem names something that I need to have named, or focuses my attention on something I’ve failed to see. I write in order to pay attention. I write poems so that I may know what I see. Poetry enhances the practice of mindfulness. Just yesterday I read “Small Kindnesses” by Danusha Lameris for the first time. That poem made me stop, give thanks, rejoice, and resolve to attend to small kindnesses.
- Mary Earle, as cited in Abbey of the Arts: Transformative Living through Contemplative and Expressive Arts: https://abbeyofthearts.com/blog/2019/12/04/featured-poet-mary-c-earle/