The Devotions Podcast Tara

I love you. I'm glad I exist.

Hi friends,

Today’s poem is “The Orange” by Wendy Cope*.

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I had a half.
And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.
The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I’m glad I exist.

As I mentioned, this is the last episode of the Devotions podcast. Thank you so much to everyone who tuned in, I really appreciate it. These episodes will still be accessible on all podcast streaming platforms. See you on the other side.

Love always,

3 Tara

*from Serious Concerns by Wendy Cope, published by Faber & Faber in 1992.

Why not / live each day as if it were the first—/ all raw astonishment

Happy Sunday! Apologies for being a bit casual (and sniffly) this week :-)

Today’s poem is “Imaginary Conversation” by the late Linda Pastan*.

You tell me to live each day
as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen
where before coffee I complain
of the day ahead—that obstacle race
of minutes and hours,
grocery stores and doctors.
But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning,
the sun coming up
like an ingénue in the east?
You grind the coffee
with the small roar of a mind
trying to clear itself. I set
the table, glance out the window
where dew has baptized every
living surface.

3 Tara

*from Insomnia by Linda Pastan, published by W.W. Norton in 2015

Is there a vocabulary for this—one to make dailiness amplify / and not diminish wonder?

Hi friends,

Sorry for the delay in getting this out — thank you so much for your patience. Today’s poem is “Do You Speak Persian?” by Kaveh Akbar.

Some days we can see Venus in mid-afternoon. Then at night, stars
separated by billions of miles, light travelling years
to die in the back of an eye.
Is there a vocabulary for this—one to make dailiness amplify
and not diminish wonder?
I have been so careless with the words I already have.
I don’t remember how to say home
in my first language, or lonely, or light.
I remember only
delam barat tang shodeh, I miss you,
and shab bekheir, goodnight.
How is school going, Kaveh-joon?
Delam barat tang shodeh.
Are you still drinking?
Shab bekheir.
For so long every step I’ve taken
has been from one tongue to another.
To order the world:
I need, you need, he/she/it needs.
The rest, left to a hungry jackal
he rest, left to a hungry jackal
Right now our moon looks like a pale cabbage rose.
Delam barat tang shodeh.
We are forever folding into the night.
Shab bekheir.

Hope you’re doing well.

3 Tara

*first published in Narrative in 2015, sourced from Split This Rock’s poetry database.

Put myself entirely / in the keep of this rainy morning.

Hi friends,

A casual one today, recorded in bed, on my phone. I am usually more meticulous about my recordings and what I say, but let me know if this more conversational format resonates with you.

Today’s poem is “Rain” by Raymond Carver.* Here it is copied below:

Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.
Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgiveable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.

Happy 2023. Love always.

3 Tara

*from All of Us: The Collected Poems by Raymond Carver, published by Knopf, 1996.

afraid, yes, but among you again

Hi friends,

Today’s poem is “Snowdrops” by Louise Glück* Here it is copied below:

Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring--
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.

Happy Holidays and best wishes for the New Year :-)

Love always.

3 Tara

(P.S. Sorry for the quality of this recording — it was recorded on my phone as I’m still at home with my family and away from my roommate’s fancy microphone. LOL.)

*from The Wild Iris by Louise Glück, published by Ecco Press, 1992. Glück won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for this collection in 1993.

i fold and unfold / my heart a hundred times each / day

Today’s poem is “Under The Day” by Victoria Chang.* Here it is copied below:

Every day I laugh,
do you hear my mouth lifting?
I fold and unfold
my heart a hundred times each
day so that it doesn’t freeze.

I would love to hear some of the ways you fold and unfold your hearts. Please let me know in the comments if you’d like :-)

Have a wonderful week!

3 Tara

*from The Trees Witness Everything by Victoria Chang, published by Copper Canyon Press, 2022