Mar 21 2018
Ivan M. Granger – When the Spring Thaw Comes
When the Spring Thaw Comes
by Ivan M. Granger
Something they
won’t tell you –
That book of sins
you hide
beneath your pillow
matters
not at all.
When the spring thaw comes
we all go mad
and shred it,
tossing love notes
left and right
scribbled on the scraps.
— from Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania, Edited by Andrew Harvey / Edited by Jay Ramsay
/ Image by Ana-mcara /
It has been a while since I last featured one of my own poems. Something to welcome spring.
We all do it, keep a hidden notebook detailing each and every failing. When it comes to that book of self-recrimination, we memorize each page with a cruel clarity. We can list each imperfection. The tally on the final page tells us in blunt mathematics how we are not who we imagine we should be. We brutalize ourselves with this book.
It is not that any line item in this ledger is untrue or that we should not feel remorse when we stumble or cause hurt.
But something happens. Spring’s first dawn breaks. The old self, in stunned silence, just falls away. And with it goes all those old calculations.
All that then remains of those countless self-cruelties are our secret love notes written to a new self and a new world filled with new life.
Happy spring! And to all of my Persian and Middle Eastern friends, Happy Nowruz!
Recommended Books: Ivan M. Granger
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Ivan M. Granger
US (1969 – ) |
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Ivan M. Granger is the founder and editor of the Poetry Chaikhana, a publishing house and online resource for sacred poetry from around the world. He is the author of Real Thirst: Poetry of the Spiritual Journey and editor of The Longing in Between: A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology. His poetry and translations have been included in several magazines and anthologies.
Ivan grew up in Oregon and Southern California. He has also lived on the island of Maui. He now lives in Colorado with his wife, Michele.
“Poetry has an immediate effect on the mind. The simple act of reading poetry alters thought patterns and the shuttle of the breath. Poetry induces trance. Its words are chant. Its rhythms are drumbeats. Its images become the icons of the inner eye. Poetry is more than a description of the sacred experience; it carries the experience itself.”
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Poetry Chaikhana readers often ask me about myself. Who is the guy behind all those poetry emails? What drew you to sacred poetry? And just what does “Poetry Chaikhana” mean?
As a way to answer some of those questions, I thought I’d post an audio interview I did a few years ago. I talk a little about myself, and a lot about poetry — the transformational power of poetry, the ways poetry naturally expresses the sacred experience, the non-dogmatic nature of poetry. And I read a few poems.
Click to listen: Interview with Ivan M. Granger
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Love it, Ivan!
Great image..
That book of sins
you hide
beneath your pillow
Wow, Ivan! Beautiful poem. It actually brought tears to my eyes.
Warmest regards,
Amardeep
At a talk I gave recently, it came to me that the origin of spirituality was the experience of Wow!
I love that, Harvey. Gets right to the essence — wow!
WOW! 🙂
I liked your comment
“secret love notes written to a new self and
a new world filled with new life”
The” book of sin”
Have dissolved,
for sure!!!
Forget for it!
Even the boundaries
Between seasons
Have dissolved
too …
They said
Spring came,
But it is still winter here,
it is snowing now…
hmmmmm…
what is true?
Independent of the outer
circumstances and weather,
Inside of us is always
warm and peaceful,
imperishable, seasonless,
timeless
spring…
Let stay there…
Let stay there…
…and probably new poems will
arise…with the spring thaw …
Gratitude!
Thank you! Just what I needed today!
I’m always happy when a poem finds just the right place and time.
Awesome Ivan 🙂 I need to “go mad” and shred my book like crazy. :DDDD
Note to everyone: Consider yourself reminded.
Happy Nauroz 🙂
The myths of Judaea-christian civilizations based on the primacy if a male godhead has wreaked havoc with human brain, programming in good vs evil and self-conflict. Your poem cuts through , like Hafiz and Rumi.
( I will submit some of poems once I see how)
I had a friend in college who had grown up in the Congo. His parents had been Baptist missionaries. We both attended a small Baptist college in West Virginia. I ran in to him one day in the Spring and he told me that he was a virgin because every Spring he became one. So I decided I would join him and have been declaring that I am a virgin every Spring! This embodies your poem, Ivan. Loved it!