A word, softly spoken
Impregnates our busy lives
Swelling the recollection
We are already loved.
A prayer for Advent
Jamie Coats December 2012
A word, softly spoken
Impregnates our busy lives
Swelling the recollection
We are already loved.
A prayer for Advent
Jamie Coats December 2012
She walked into the bar and saw him immediately, the Greenman. His face was made of leaves, he wore a summer suit and a floral Liberty print tie displaying a riot of flowers tastefully tumbling down his front. She sat next to him. She was wearing a small silk pouch around her neck that matched the color of her dress. The pouch hung over her heart. She took the pouch off and put it onto the bar between them. She opened it, revealing a white lined interior holding a variety of beans. He pointed at one and she smiled. He looked up and his eyes caught the bar tender’s attention. He ordered and the bar tender produced what looked like a pint of Guinness for him and a bottle of mineral water for her. His pint was actually filled with deep, rich, dark earth. He pushed his finger into the earth making a hole, she put the bean in, closed the hole and then she poured a little of her fresh spring water into the pint and it soaked in. The seed in the caring earth felt the water ignite its inner strength of life, sprouted and soon a tender new leaf unfurled … to their delight and to everyone else at the bar’s surprise.
At a bar met the Green Man
Who asks, “Like a word?”
“I am looking for Emmanuel,
Emma for short.”
“Go to my barn, take some lessons,
I’ve just the horse for you, Pegasus.
What a winged horse,
Asked for a barn right on the cliff edge
So he’d be able to leap straight into the air.
No, I said, erosion happens.
You’ll have a barn way back from the edge.
From the barn you can still see the sea.
I built the barn from the sacred tree,
The one on which he died.
At the barn take Pegasus out of his stall.
Groom his winter coat so fine,
Put some fluff in a can.
Pick up his feet, pick out his hooves,
Open his mouth, put in the bit
Bend his ears forward, reins over his head.
Saddle him up, check the girth again and again.
You don’t want to fall off up in the air.
Take time to be responsible,
Ride him around the paddock
Until he’s done his business.
I want no defecating from on high.
Then ride off the cliff edge,
To people’s surprise you’ll not fall to your death
But rise into the sky.
Now before you go
Come back to the bar.
Ask my friends each for a word,
A caterpillar one that crawls around inside
Eating up their lives.
Put the words in your can,
Shut the lid all cozy
They’ll turn into chrysali.
Then on Pegasus take off,
Straight into the storm sky
Ride ‘till the sun appears.
Then open that can
And butterflies will pour out
Leaving a rainbow trail
Arching color across the sky.
On your return tell your daughter
If she has a nightmare
She can snuck into his stall
And curl up under his wing.
You’ll find Emma, you’ll find her
You’ll find home, you’ll find us all, partner.
Know what grows, dies, returns.
Seasons and heartbeats understand.
Here’s to bars and barns
Places for you to be a Green Man.”
Theme for 2012
Jamie Coats February 2012
A door slams, locking us in the dark.
The handle spins uselessly in our grasp.
We see a tiny cross-shaped eye hole,
We catch a glimpse of light.
Keep looking, light dissolves the door,
We will step from darkness into light.
This article was written for the Episcopal Church Foundation Vital Practices Website http://www.ecfvp.org/
In Lent 2004 I had a vision during a meditation and wrote down a story entitled “In Boots Behold God” that told of Jesus giving me a pair of winged-boots and instructing me to “go fit boots!” Since this story emerged I have come to see my vocation as being the winged-boot fitter, who helps others to make spirited and rooted next steps in their lives and organizations. At least that is what I try to do. I now describe myself in my bio as “A communication messenger for the religious, as an appreciator of the story of Hermes and the story of Jesus’ washing the disciples’ feet” and that I am a “winged-boot fitter for monks.”
How to be a Winged-Boot Fitter
I ask:
What I have learned from using this exercise is that it takes people out their heads and makes them, in some way, think with their whole body. It allows people to surface major issues that stop their whole progress or their organization’s progress. What I have also found is that what people are desperate for is “One step out of stuckness.” They do not need comprehensive answers, brilliant ideas, and other people’s examples. They want their own “One step out of stuckness.” They want to be fitted with their own pair of winged boots.
I am, roadside down
Hit by a bus out biking,
Tears, loving my child
Jamie Coats August 2009
On July 31, 2009 I was hit by a bus while bicycling to work. As I lay on the ground an apparition of my daughter appeared before me.
Primo Levi dared to face memories
Most of us would bury.
He looked into the face of Hell
And brought it to the surface
For all to see, once and for all.
Wherever he looked
Wherever he went
He carried Satan’s image
To warn us.
He was brave enough to live with the Devil
To expose him
To protect us.
We did not recognize him.
Let us forget.
Bury it.
Hide it.
Anything but remember.
We did not hold his hand
Give him the love
The love of humanity.
Alone
He said goodbye.
Jamie Coats August 1987
On April 11, 1987 42 years after being rescued from Auschwitz Primo Levi fell to his death in the stair-well of the Turin apartment building where he was born and lived.
In August 1987 I met Primo Levi’s sister at a dinner party. She did not mention her brother but I left the party feeling grief-stricken. I read a number of his works and wrote this poem.
On April 11, 2010 my sister Emma was admitted to the John Radcliffe Hospital trauma unit following a fall. I think she would have have understood this poem.