Rev. Vanessa Titang

Category: poetry

  • Rinse and Repeat

    Rinse and Repeat

    [A meditation for these difficult times]

    Get it I out,
    Cry it out,
    Yell to and at the heavens above
    (The divine knows exactly why and can assuredly take it).
    Things are neither right
    Nor fair,
    Let the tears wash over you,
    Inhale,
    Exhale–In and out,
    And get up,
    Rise to the challenge of fighting the good fight another day,
    And then another,
    But be sure to cry,
    Release,
    Let the tears condition your strengthening heart,
    Remain open to and receptive of love
    For this is how and why we do this;
    Breathe,
    Rinse and repeat.

  • Present Liminal Moment

    Dearest one,
    Welcome to an in-between;
    Do not fear,
    It in itself is not a terrible place,
    It is but a liminal moment
    You find yourself in now,
    Breathe,
    This is but another moment,
    In a string of moments,
    In a space, perhaps more obvious
    By rite or occasion,
    That makes this moment obvious;
    You may quake in the face of uncertainty,
    Of “what comes next?”,
    Or “what does one do next?”
    Again, breathe,
    This is but a moment
    After you have come through so many,
    And this too shall pass,
    This is all part of your individual journey,
    At this stage,
    Perhaps you are more aware,
    awake,
    woke;
    Be present,
    Here and now,
    One moment,
    One step,
    One breath at a time,
    Birth your new being through
    This liminal moment;
    In this present,
    May you find assurance,
    Stability,
    And be steadfast in your confidence
    In Spirit of life and love that too
    Shines forth light,
    To illuminate even
    Your darkest spaces
    With starlight.

    May it be so;
    Blessed be.

  • Fair

    Fair

    *A poem/reflection written in prayer on the challenge someone I know currently faces battling cancer.

    There is nothing fair
    About any of this,
    Of children
    That of which we are
    Left to fend for themselves,
    There is nothing fair about there being
    An unknown
    That is always shrouded in mystery;
    Without answers
    I can try to comfort you
    And try I will,
    I ask that you only take from it what you need,
    Here is what I believe:
    There is nothing “fair”
    About the suffering you endure
    And it is not an act of spite,
    By the Divine;
    The Divine
    —A spirit so grand and yet still seeing your lifetime in its uniqueness
    For the first time;
    Spirit, an entity timeless
    And endless
    Thus, always in flux;
    Knows even metamorphoses involve mutation,
    At levels, we can not perceive;
    The cosmos are so great and complex, and yet their workings are also part of and shaped by the microscopic;
    Spirit may stir the workings,
    Yet pain is but
    A byproduct,
    unintended,
    This we may never rightly understand;
    Breathe, dear one,
    It is not fair,
    Nor is it your fault,
    In this moment, I can do nothing to absolve your hurting,
    But I can be present
    With you,
    for you,
    Holding you in this temporal comfort of embrace,
    I can also say nothing,
    For words are meaningless,
    Being explained to one in a crucible;
    As much as I can
    I hold your pain
    In my heart
    In exchange with my love,
    Love that is also an unending
    Blessed gift of the Divine,
    always,
    And for all;

    And still damnit No,
    This
    is not fair.

  • White Water: Life

    White Water: Life

    The current is hard, love,
    The tide is high,
    The waves are choppy,
    But don’t lose yourself in the white water,
    And if you should
    Remember to go back,
    Go back;
    And rescue you,
    You too deserve
    To be believed,
    Loved,
    Appreciated,
    and Saved,
    This river of life is rough.

  • Infinitely Creating

    Spirit is love
    Spirit is All,
    All is Love.

    Everything happens for reasons
    All of which
    We cannot see
    cannot understand,
    cannot comprehend,
    Within the event.

    This
    is infinite creation,
    Everything is in flux;
    Spirit is never “done”.

    Spirit is change;
    Spirit is creativity;
    Spirit is balancing infinite infinities,

    But first Spirit is Love
    And thus creates;
    Creates, grows, and balances creation,
    Infinitely.

  • Chimes

    2.1.2023

    I hear the windchimes
    The wind it calls
    Reminds it is not lifeless
    But imbued with life itself
    Breath
    And breathing ancestors
    Still
    Chimes are their song
    Listen
    And know
    It is sung for you.

  • We Together: Life

    We Together: Life

    We are together;
    We are The Tree
    Of Life
    The stick…
    The twig…
    The leaf…
    The root…
    The seed…

  • P A T R I O T +

    P A T R I O T +

    If I
    Had been fit, at the time
    After 9/ 11,
    would I have lived up
    to my own values fully?
    Or needed to force-fit my vessel into an 8-bit camo suit,
    That compromised MY personal soul mission;
    To be what everyone else at the time saw to be the only version of
    A “real” “Patriot”?
    Likely.

    Instead
    Chubby, brainy, MS “rewiring” me
    Found MY real patriotism+ ;
    Finding Real in the
    Meaning behind red, white, & blue;
    And the spectral black-white that lay just
    Below the service .
    And I found my personal freedom
    In, of, for and through me.
    –As a sister, a daughter,
    a friend, a lover,
    a mother,
    A “No one’s free until everybody’s free”,
    Social justice advocating
    Flower child,
    Love worshipping
    Mystic,
    And Spiritual freedom fighting
    Harriet, Fannie Lou, Ida B., and MLK Jr. emulating
    Patriot+.

    1.7.2023 (revised 1.14.2023)

  • Blessed, When the World Has Fallen Apart

    Blessed, When the World Has Fallen Apart

    (Reflection on a blessing from a Nigerian Chief, given Juneteenth 2022, in Maine)

    The world has fallen apart

    Though this is not the first time,

    It is just one of the times

    where it is all too much;

    Intentionally crafted

    By mortal powers that be.

    Not ordained by divinity.

    Weakened,

    But not dead

    I remind myself.

    And yesterday I was again reminded

    Of ancestors

    Who have been tasked similarly.

    What is next?

    What do I do now?

    When my back has been given

    Far too much weight

    To bare;

    When the final straw is placed?

    I did not know what I needed,

    Until it was before me,

    A spirit of power and memory,

    Backlit by the warm glow of summer sun,

    A masked figure,

    Familiar to family I do not know,

    And my predecessors,

    Speaking in a language I do not know,

    But understood.

    The slow, careful sound of ankle bells  

    And a motion to come forth,

    Welcomed me in,

    And back,

    Back,

    Back,

    In time and space,

    Back.

    This has happened before,

    And here

    we are;

    Still.

    A blessing given

    Of memory,

    Of protection,

    Of our shared connection,

    I cannot know the intention,

    But I felt it

    We all felt it.

    Let us not forget;

    Never forget,

    This moment,

    Or all that brought us

    Here—in time and space.

    Remembering

    Past, present

    And that

    we are not done,

    –This is always just beginning.

    We are our ancestors’ wildest dreams,

    May we be our descendants’ bravest heroes,

    keepers of the flame,

    Knowing we are the ones we have been waiting for,

    Thus,

    let’s go!

  • Porous

    April 27, 2022

    Ministerial formation is a unique and significant process of understanding self, and through this growing wiser and closer to others. As a racial minority in this faith,  this region,  this country how this manifests for me is in many ways different that the experience of many of my peers. In formation both unnecessary and the needed protective layers of self are removed in the process, to grow anew. This poem is a reflection of the experience of vulnerability and growth in the formation process, particularly for members of minority and/or marginalized groups.

    Vulnerable;

    Stripped down to the root,

    The wick of my personhood,

    Bark removed,

    The damp core of wood exposed,

    Formation is just this

    –Formation;

    Here from a ready made structure

    It requires this stripping,

    For the careful identification of scars

    And gnarled roots;

    Grow anew

    New bark, new buds,

    And blooms will form,

    This regrowth is slow,

    Unperceivable without a microscope,

    Without awareness,

    But it occurs nonetheless,

    New growth forms skin,

    A new skin,

    A different skin,

    Not only providing protection,

    But also allowing breath;

    Porous,

    Not just a barrier,

    But filtering in

    The good.