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Poetry & Self-Exploration Workshop
Poetry of Affirmation
Church members Rima Snyder, Edna Bonacich and Judith Martin-Straw present poems that talk about making conscious and positive choices, about turning difficulty into opportunity, and about celebrating the joy of life.
Poetry of Mindfulness
"Mindfulness" is a word we hear a lot these days. It means living in the present, being fully aware and awake to the world. Poems can be expressions of mindfulness, giving us a glimpse into a moment that transforms the familiar into something sacred. They can provide refuge and inspiration when we need a reminder of how to live fully and compassionately. Rima Snyder and Dorothy Steinicke share their reflections on poems from the anthology ""Poems of Presence"" (edited by Phyllis Cole-Dai and Ruby R. Wilson)
Poetry of Protest and Praise
Join Rima Snyder, Emmy Cresciman, and others as they explore poems by William Wordsworth, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and Wendell Berry on the topics of nature, patriotism and environmentalism.
Poetry of Transformation

Church members Rima Snyder, Joanna Woods-Marsden, Steve White, and Larry Howard present poems addressing the topic of change and transformation.
Poetry Supplemental: July 26, 2015 "Tree & Root: Poems About Family"

Supplemental Poetry: "Tree & Root: Poems About Family"

 
Nan Burton
 
Nan Burton
was thirty at the turn
of the twentieth century,
had birthed her only child,
Edna, my grandmother.
 
Burtons had been abolitionists
sheltering runaway slaves
on their way to Canada,
part of the underground railway.
none the less her husband,
twenty some years older than she,
had gone to a camp deep in the woods
to avoid the civil war draft.
not out of fear or conscientious objection
out of deep distrust of recruiters
from beyond his home town
unwilling to put his life
in the hands of strangers.
(Yankee isolationism at its most basic.)
 
my great grandmother Nan Burton
taught me to draw a cup and saucer in perspective
taught me to add and subtract in my head, playing dominoes.
 
When she thought no one was looking
she peeked behind the television
to see how they got those people on the screen.
 
When she was asked certain questions
she replied “Well” with a specific kind of inflection.
not to gather her thoughts or at a loss for words
what she meant was,
“I’ll keep my own counsel about that.”
(Yankee reticence at its finest.)
 
she took me to the post war parades
she was there at union station
when the uncles came back from world war II
unimaginable and distant hence fascinating
she was at the table when they talked about the bomb
(the one that could blow up everything)
 
Nan Burton told me she didn’t eat tomatoes
“I don’t eat love apples” she said
years later I learned that in her day
tomatoes were thought to be an aphrodisiac.
 
Nan Burton told me
I could do anything I set my mind to;
so I read like her and most of my family.
in order to figure out what to put my mind to.
I didn’t have a clue but I knew I’d recognize it
when I read it.
turned out it was the reading itself
led me to movies and television
which made me a living.
 
right around the time she died
she visited me in a dream,
while I was in army prison.
She said to me
“you’ll be all right Vincent”
 
  ~~~ Vincent Cresciman
 
 
 
Generations
 
Passing through the generations,
The foundation stands.
Steady as a rock,
Yet bending with the grace of a willow,
 
A helpful hand here, then a gentle push when needed,
Someone to laugh till you cry with, or cry until you are healed with,
 
Family members you have known well for years,
And those just coming into your life.
 
Those who speak to you from family albums
And photos
Long gone but never forgotten,
Your ancestors handing you the reins.
 
With the ebb and flow of time, sometimes the present picture changes,
But never those souls within.
 
Carry your fate proudly; you know who you are,
And where you come from, and that matters.
 
  ~~~ Jessica Fant-Chapin
 
 
 
My Dad
 
He loved Old Spice sawdust wet dirt and warm wood
                 Hard wiry with blue of sky settled in his eyes
Loved clatter of keyboard grind of saws hoe on garden ground
                Curious yearning stretching to new experiences
 
I’m tied to him through curiosity blood line and learning
                 A distant tie while he was in California
Working shipyards during World War II
                 The family behind in Arkansas
 
His foot almost lost in a work accident
                 That brought him back to church work
Slight limp as he built his home helped build a
                  National organization of church administrators
 
Friends called them the “going Arney’s”
                  Always ready for the next journey in the US and beyond
With wife to Amsterdam and Papua New Guinea with their pilot son
                 To Japan as president of Lion's Club
 
At eighty the headline said “Just call Henry ‘Superman’”
                 As he outperformed others half his age
In rope climbing running and jumping at a modern day
                 Institute in community leadership skills
 
Building and remodeling homes and meeting places
                  For self and others through his retirement years
Building and remodeling himself through his life
                  Writing serving learning growing
 
Born into a log cabin cracks chinked with mud
                  Mountain spring giving water
Away to Valley Springs High School dedicated
                  To educate its students in body mind and soul
 
He read Greek studied theology and philosophy
                  Earned a degree in Latin at Hendrix
Building with brick on campus to pay his way
                  Graduated into the depression with a wife and infant son
 
Grew gardens all his life vegetables for food
                 Flowers for the wife he loved sixty plus years
Created bird friendly yard
                 Hand fed a mockingbird each morning
 
Grew into the world as he found it computers electronics
                  Existing alongside age old ties with the earth
Aimed to live to one hundred years
                  Made it to eighty-six active and alert to the end
 
On his burying day the church was full to overflowing
                  With family and friends who came to honor him
His contributions his giving heart and mind
                   And Dan the minister teary eyed voice cracking
 
Spoke with love and respect
                   About this man
Who lived fully into life
                   With love with curiosity with service
 
  ~~~ Bettye Barclay
 
 
 
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
 
  ~~~ Jellaludin Rumi, translation by Coleman Barks
 
 
 
Cave of the Flowers
We lonely, bundled-up against dark birds swooping
a storm sky. Childhood a gray garden where flowers
loosen their hold, weeping their petals. Weeds, twisted
and grasping search out green shoots.
 
I do not lie down in wild tangle, hover, though stunted,
wait till eighteen with just enough life, left to plant
my own garden.
 
Seek out new family who gather my life precious, seed
packet of potential, plant, water and tend, the lush-
humming for years.
 
Until gold leaves of autumn, the fence line of winter,
where ice winds blow, and I twirl, a little leaf tight hangs,
stem to bare twig and worry into the season of snow.
 
Fierce winter, season of advanced age.
 
No garden. Snow. Lies silent and deep, feet heavy, blind-
feel through the cold.
 
But there, as I peer and puzzle a glow, cave, warm cave
full of flowers!
 
It is this church. Unitarian-Universalist, almost hidden in
blurred world of white storm. Garden inside.
 
And family of gardeners. My own people, family, loving
service. Respect.
 
It is church of great bears of the heart, tigers of intellect,
swans of grace, and hound dogs of commitment.
 
All feeling as pups tumbling a sunny garden in great cave,
bobbing and burbling, they tend
burgeoning, flourishing garden.
 
Miraculous, in deep winter-snow,
full garden of spring flowers grow.
 
 
  ~~~ Cassandra Christenson
 
 
Poetry Workshop

Exploring Our Values Through Poetry.  7 sessions will cover a variety of topics, including poems about spiritual journeys, connections with others, poetry of social conscience, and transformation. Workshop limited to 8 people, sign up at the Adult RE table in Forbes. C/o Rima Snyder
Poetry Workshop
Pola Lopez
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Pola Lopez’s art is an eclectic collection of images drawn from her mixed cultural heritage, which is rich in tradition, infused with a spiritual vision, and fueled by her belief in the power of color to provoke. Her vibrant canvases are immersed in her indigenous, feminine perspective of symbols of the Mesizo culture that encompasses European and native influences. Born in New Mexico and raised by a father who was a poet and a dreamer, she was encouraged to follow her heart — which lead her to a successful career as an artist.
 
Lopez has been featured in several publications and film documentaries. Her paintings are collected by private patrons throughout the United States and Puerto Rico, and are in permanent collections in Southwestern museums and foundations. With an extensive exhibition list, she has always represented herself; she has a desire to create her own place in the art world without compromising her artistic and creative inspiration. http://www.polalopez.com/statement.htm
 
The Pola Lopez visual artist show will be on the church’s Art Wall for the month of June. Lopez will host an artist’s reception on June 1 at 1 p.m. in Forbes Hall. She will also be at church all Sunday morning, so you can catch her after a service too.
 
Calling All Church Artists
If you have work that can hang on our Art Wall contact Diana Spears. The selected art work will be shown in July and August.
Policies & Resolutions
Politics without Context

Jim Conn, Director of New Ministries for the United Methodist Church and longtime friend of our congregation, writes, Democracy is a noble experiment. Just because it is some 225 years old does not allow us to assume that what we have become accustomed to will survive us. As we mark the birth of the American Revolution, we can ask ourselves what revolutions we could be making now that will move us into the future with strength and depth and a message for others.
Pose

Where can you tell your whole Truth?  Is there any place that is safe enough to share all of who you are?  If telling the truth is a virtue, why do we spend so much time wearing masks?  What are the masks that you  wear?  Who knows what is behind your mask?