Norah Tunney

I read the poems of Tagore for you

I read the poems of Tagore for you
to calm the fevers and the chills,
...

Last night I held the world
in my arms,
and my heart broke into
a thousands shards,
...

In a Paris cafe
on Rue De Barrie,
I watch a solitary man
...

When the mind is quiet
its a beautiful thing,

snowflakes in the winter
...

Be kind, Be kind

Sometimes
in the dark mists of grief,
...

The passion of a poet
is rooted in the sacred,
there is nothing in this world that is not divine,
...

Again and again
I am reminded
of that word
the buddhists love,
...

When your racehorse mind is running around the track,
and your body feels like a heavy sack,
go inside yourself
and find a soft armchair,
...

If this were your last day
how would you spend it?
I know I would feel an urgency
I would want to tell those closest to me
...

The raw gritty depths of grief.

Forget
all the spiritual books
...

Meditation

This morning
I do not spend long hours
...

The nearest thing
to god for me
is the love of my mother
and father
...

The night before he died
he kept pulling at the sheets,
I wondered if his mind was going?
so I asked him-
...

You never know
what's around the corner,
one minute you're up and running,
next your speech is slurred,
...

I want to be among fleshy,
meaty, messy things,
I want to be human down to
the bloody ground.
...

Every moment is dripping with Being
carrying the scent of
wild fresh green,
luscious, succulent, sexy,
...

if you are grieving
you have a right to be,
it's a normal response
to the craziness you see,
...

There are no mistakes-
everything happens for you
not to you,
now it is a mosquito ringing
...

The ordinary things that shape a life

There is a flame
that burns
...

Every morning
I fall into the mystery
and feel life through the stillness
I am a child again
...