poem | Compassionate San Antonio

Poem: “Though there are torturers,” by Michael Coady

by Susan | Oct 15, 2020 | inspiration, poem

Though there are torturers in the world There are also musicians. Though, at this moment, Men are screaming in prisons, There are jazzmen raising storms Of sensuous celebration, And orchestras releasing Glories of the Spirit. Though the image of God Is everywhere...

Poem: “When Great Trees Fall,” by Maya Angelou

by Susan | Sep 20, 2020 | inspiration, poem

When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around...

POEM: “Let This Darkness Be A Bell Tower,” by Rainer Maria Rilke

by Susan | Sep 9, 2020 | inspiration, poem

Quiet friend who has come so far, feel how your breathing makes more space around you. Let this darkness be a bell tower and you the bell. As you ring, what batters you becomes your strength. Move back and forth into the change. What is it like, such intensity of...

POEM: “I Confess,” by Alison Luterman

by Susan | Aug 1, 2020 | inspiration, poem

I stalked her in the grocery store: her crown of snowy braids held in place by a great silver clip, her erect bearing, radiating tenderness,watching the way she placed yogurt and avocados in her basket, beaming peace like the North Star. I wanted to ask, “What...

Poem: “How We Could Have Lived or Died This Way,” by Martín Espada

by Susan | Jul 4, 2020 | inspiration, poem

Not songs of loyalty alone are these, But songs of insurrection also, For I am the sworn poet of every dauntless rebel the world over. —Walt Whitman I see the dark-skinned bodies falling in the street as their ancestors fell before the whip and steel, the last blood...

Poem: “Incendiary Art,” by Patricia Smith

by Susan | Jun 27, 2020 | inspiration, poem

The city’s streets are densely shelved with rows of salt and packaged hair. Intent on air, the funk of crave and function comes to blows with any smell that isn’t oil—the blare of storefront chicken settles on the skin and mango spritzing drips from razored hair. The...

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