"Poems, Prayers, & Promises" #8

Featuring Michael Kleber-Diggs, Jeff Coffin, and Muriel Anderson

Aug 10, 2023

Welcome to another day of “Poems, Prayers, & Promises”

Remember, you’re the co-creator of this dive. Do as much or as little as you’d like, when you’d like, how you’d like, with the materials I provide. Just keep gentle faith with yourself.

Set your intention

Take a moment to name the primary intention you have for this month-long deep dive and/or this particular session. Take a quiet moment to center yourself in that intention.

Enter the music

Read the poem

I invite you to read this poem twice—aloud, at least once. You may also listen to my reading of the poem, perhaps with your eyes closed.

1×

0:00

-2:51

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published


GRINDING DOWN TO PRAYER
Michael Kleber-Diggs

          for George Floyd

I woke to the news you were dead.
The what arrived before daylight;

the how was agony unfolding as I
dreaded my way to dusk. Unfolding

against my want not to know
(but I already knew, have known

since I could know): officers, arrest,
Black, man, twenty, video, knee,

sir, back, dollar, 8:, counterfeit,
hands, sorry, 46, mama, please,

breathe, please! Were you tired
George? I feel tired sometimes.

America on my neck—my
lungs compressed so much

they can’t expand/contract—
take in/send out—oxygen/words.

My dentist says I grind my teeth.
My molars are wearing smooth.

The next night, I jolted awake
to find my fists clenched tight

(some fight), my heart pounding fast,
my mouth hanging open, slack,

not tight that time, just me
on my own gasping for air

6 times a minute—a raspy sound.
The world was darkness; my room was

darkness. I lay in a state of
in between and thought of you

but also God. I wanted the sun
but did not ask. I hoped instead

for a quiet dawn and peace for us,
real peace for us. I hoped so hard

it almost made a prayer.


(from Worldly Things, 2021)

Contemplate/Create

Use any of these questions however you wish—e.g., as openings for meditation or prayer, as prompts for journaling or poetry-writing, as sparks for drawing or painting, as catalysts for change-making . . . You may also ignore my questions altogether to go off in other directions!

This poem reflects on the death of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on May 25, 2020, the direct result of police officer Derek Chauvin kneeling on his neck for nine minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Its text is difficult to read, listen to, contemplate. Journal honestly about what you felt in meeting the poem, and whether you were tempted to turn away from it.
List some of the emotions apparently or overtly experienced by the speaker of the poem. Are they emotions that you’re comfortable experiencing through a poem? How might such a poem stretch you—and also enrich your practice of prayer?
This poem has the tone of a eulogy, wrestling with two facts: first, that someone who was once alive is now dead; second, that the rest of us remain. But its conclusion brings us explicitly to prayer. What does it mean, that the speaker “hoped so hard / it almost made a prayer”? How do you imagine the relationship between hope and prayer?
Among other things, this is a poem about being unable to pray. “I wanted the sun / but did not ask. I hoped instead . . .” Have you ever experienced the inability to pray when you wanted to? What was the obstacle to your praying? What helped you endure that moment or period of your life?
Where is the hope, if any, in this poem?
Does your consideration of this poem move you to make any kind of promise to yourself or someone else?

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Join us ☀️September 5 (NOT August 5) for “Rafter Refuge”! (My mistake, initially announcing the wrong date.)

6:30-8:00PM Central (7:30 ET, 5:30 MT, 4:30 PT)

Let’s close this Deep Dive with a time of sharing. Come and reflect with other Rafters on “Poems, Prayers, & Promises.” Registration is required for this celebration.