I tend to be restless and during the course my life I have moved often...
...and I have had to reconcile with the obvious: that the home I have been seeking, a permanent home, does not exist in this world, where the inevitable specter of death looms always nearby, yet it is kept at a distance by the ego’s, quite natural, desire to exist eternally.
So what is this deep desire for a home that does not fade and crumble under the heavy weight of time? I have sought the answer to this question my whole life, and I have come to realize that knowing and realizing are very different things. Many religions have the same basic ideals: the soul lives on after the body dies, individual souls have an eternal relationship with God, to put to it simply. But how to realize, or become enlightened to my real spiritual nature? That takes practice. I hope that Gradually, through writing, and other spiritual practices I will unearth a glimmer of eternity.
Part of that practice is offering back the gifts of life and love back to the divine. So I do my writing as an offering, although, too often, I forget the goal, and my mind strays to wanting to give for selfish reasons, and collect temporary toys
This poem speaks of the spiritual journey I have been on, trying to locate my soul, and find meaning in this world, even with all the apparent contradictions, which abound in this world of the temporary.
The video is a collection of altered images from places I’ve lived or visited.
|"Ladies of Rome" by the author Janavi Held|
by Janavi Held
I went missing in the dark waters of the city
as the streets secretly swallowed me up
and the eroded slopes of buildings
caught my undigested fear
and thereby dissembled my heart.
In that year of shadows
I bore off the helpless soul
still rendered to forgetfulness
she rippled with stunning clarity
in the wake of our well-prepared labor.
And today there is a blush of pollen
ascending from that tower
remarkably cut from the hard wood of living.
is a prepared world
the victim of time
yet with a vast store of dignity
revealing its essence through the geometry of flowers,
it is a deserted fullness,
shadows and clarity,
and spinning recklessly lost.
(Click play to hear the author recite her poem)
Janavi Held started writing poetry and wandering around with her father’s camera as a child. At the age of nineteen, she began practicing Bhakti yoga. She holds a bachelor’s degree from Goddard College where she studied poetry, photography, and media studies. She is on the verge of releasing her first book Letters to my Oldest Friend: A Book of Poetry and Photography.
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~