Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café
“In poetry we can do things not permitted by logic or reason. Poetry will open the world beyond reason. Poetry will give access to contradictions and tensions that logic must deny. Poetry will not only remember but also propose and conjure and wonder and imagine and foretell.” These words from Walter Bruggemann, minister and Professor Emeritus of Old Testament at Columbia Theological University, were preface to thoughts about poetry in the Bible written by Miriam, Deborah, Hannah and later Mary. He states that the women “did poetry while the hard men were still parsing logic, writing memos to each other, and drafting briefs.” Well said, Walter! (I perhaps should say “Rev. Dr. Bruggemann” but he seems so down to earth. He doesn’t even use those titles on his book cover!)
As an only “occasional poet” myself, I am in deep admiration for women such as Mary Oliver and Maren Tirabassi through whom poetry seems to flow regularly from some deep well within them. They gift us with ponderings and insights. Whatever muse stirs within them, is prone to stir something within us.
I forget now how I came across Maren’s book Christmas Eve at the Epsom Circle McDonalds and Other Poems (I perhaps should say “Ms. Tirabassi” or even “Rev. Tirabassi” as that also applies. But she seems so relatable, like someone you’d call to get together for coffee!) Intrigued by the title, I ordered it on my kindle and was not disappointed. She writes of the little girl who “was the Bethlehem star in our Christmas pageant” who has been deported and without being overly dramatic or political addresses many issues in our society that seem to smack us in the face in the season of “peace and goodwill.”
She has a section based on Dickens A Christmas Carol. One poem in particular is about Scrooge’s being shown a Christmas party by his first employer Fezziwig. She writes of “fezziwigs” put in her own path: “And I have slowly learned to be generous/and even more slowly to stop working/ all the time, all the time/ to eat, drink and laugh/to get over myself and dance/even when I feel awkward.
“Every year, every single year/I seem to need that phantom reminder/of how simple joy is/and how much happiness I can share/just by opening my hand/my heart, my mouth/and tapping my two left feet.”
Last week I challenged us all to step back from the busy-ness of the season to find more pleasure, more joy and less stress. This poem underscores that message. Blessings on your experience of this season.
The invitation is open to share “two cups of tea” anytime at Hope’s Café, or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.
May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate
Hope's Cafe 