Tag Archives: mystical poetry

Depths: A Prose by Collette Kristevski

I’ve heard/that 95% of the world’s oceans are still unexplored;/that some parts of the Amazon and Antarctic/are still left untouched./It seems we have barely embraced/the complexities and depths of our immense galaxy./Many still believe we never actually landed on the moon,/ and when I consider how clumsy people can be when orbiting their own souls/I consider that maybe the conspirators are correct./I sometimes imagine that those who probe the depths of the massive universe/choose to cope with the mysteries/by living in a state of perpetual surprise./We are always banging up against wonder/and apologizing for our graceless feet./But I imagine wonder wishes we would just stay/and dance with her for a little while longer./I have never dreamed of deep diving the oceans;/have never much cared to travel to untouched territories/where the word lonely doesn’t need to be defined/because the silence says it all;/and only when I am feeling more daring than usual/do I dream of what is beyond the Earth/and reason about whether the glossy moon is indeed just a hologram./The only depths I know are my own./It seems that I cannot/(and perhaps I refuse to)/walk through life without tripping over an epiphany in the back garden of my own psyche./I, like the explorers of sea and galaxy,/am perpetually surprised/- surprised by myself./I do not dare to explore much else but the sea of my soul and the galaxies within my mind,/for I have found that I need an anchor,/even there at the bottom of my own oceans./I need to be lassoed/in the same way that God lassos the moon and places her where she needs to be,/just in time for the sun to go to her resting place,/and my mind with her.

//Depths, 5/8/2019
//Collette Kristevski

Lofty: A Poem by Collette Kristevski

Which of these Truths?
Which will you bind,
which will you loose?
To know is simplicity,
to conclude, to deduce.
To wonder is to first fall on one’s knees.
I do not mean to feign humility,
and perhaps I bruise these delicacies.
For holy things are not for all to speak.
Nor before all can they be told.
It is not so modest.
It is not so low.
Indeed, the task is too lofty for me.

//Lofty, 4/19/2019
//Collette Kristevski

Partake: A Poem by Collette Kristevski

The poet does not create beauty,
as in “bring into existence.”
Beauty exists.
Beauty woos,
beckons
the poet to Itself.
The poet is simply privileged
to partake of It –
to participate with It
in the illumination of some Truth:
that Beauty exists on It’s own.

Partake
Collette Kristevski, 3/30/2019

I was inspired to write this poem while thinking about beauty and it’s significance. As someone who writes poetry and does some drawing and painting, I would like to think that I’m the type of person who is able to see beauty in seemingly mundane, everyday things – even things that are obviously imperfect. However, I am also a tidy, clean and perfectionistic person, and often want to “perfect” what does not live up to my ideal. But when I am able to reframe imperfections in my environment as having meaning and beauty somehow, it becomes less burdensome on me, and lessens my intense need to tidy up or perfect things. On further examination though, I’ve come to recognize that beauty is not necessarily created, but that it exists on it’s own, apart from any creating or perfecting on my part. I just don’t always have the eyes to see it. The Greek adjective “kalos” is an interesting word because it can be rendered as “beautiful” or as “good.” In the Orthodox Christian faith, which I am a part of, we elevate beauty sort of as an all-encompassing term to refer to not just what is beautiful, but also what is True and Good. It refers, ultimately, to God Himself and to His will or purpose for His creation. In fact, the most primary text about Orthodox spirituality is called the Philokalia, which means “love of beauty.” And so I was pondering what it means to create art since art is often referenced as a means by which we create beauty. Perhaps art, in the most genuine sense of the word, is not art because someone made something beautiful, but because through the “creating” of the art, the artist was actually participating with the beauty that was already present. They simply illuminated it, or made it more obviously available, for all to see. Now, I definitely don’t claim to create art in this genuine sense. But it is a worthy standard to aspire to. If I can make art that gives a sense of enormity and infinity, of what is God and True and Beautiful – only then can I claim to be an artist or poet.

Follow me on Instagram @paradoxandpaschalia for more original poetry and art.

“It is finished”: A Blackout Poem by Collette Kristevski

The burden and cares laid aside.
Hear the flight
of the beasts of man –
his pride, sin, despair.
Renew
the heavenly things.
Restore
that which was lost.

//”It is finished”

//Collette Kristevski, 3/28/2019

This is a blackout poem. Background taken from PicsArt.

Follow me on Instagram @paradoxandpaschalia for more original poetry and art.

I am still mystified: A Poem by Collette Kristevski

There is Something
more immense
than I have ever been able to account for.
I have sensed since childhood
Something
abysmal,
mystifying,
unnameable.
To claim to be able to see,
to name,
to know –
I am embarrassed
to say I ever did.

//I am still mystified
//Collette Kristevski, 3/29/2019

For more original poetry and art follow me on Instagram @paradoxandpaschalia.