Welcome

The Black Barn at Maplehurst

I see the temptation in her eyes
To blur over my story
I'm taking too long to tell
To this, my dear friend
Who listens so well

There's this book
And an author
Who was led to a place
She talks about it in the book
She created a monthly care package
I subscribed

The only thing keeping my friend
Engaged in our conversation
Is my passion
The light in my eyes
The tones of delight
I struggle
To describe anything linearly
But I try

There's a real barn
Where retreats and classes happen
Where good things take place
Spiritual things
Creative things
It's a place
Built with a dream
To welcome people
To celebrate life and art and faith

I signed up for the care package
And was invited to the virtual Black Barn
A trial of sorts
Before the online Barn doors opened wide
It's a place of caring intention
A slower, more spacious place

There I receive
There I give
Conversations are created
Works of art celebrated
Benedictions given
Infusing good words, blessings
Into and over me

I've come to care
For those I've met there
In a way that says
"I will carry your burdens with you,"
And, "I will celebrate and pay witness to what you are noticing."

Most live far from me
But have become close
Soul friends
Let's-grow friends
Let's-water-and-tend-to-this-thing-
and-wait-to-see-what-happens friends

Someone called us cultivators
No one has ever referred to me as a cultivator
Not until now
But we were invited to pour into this space
Even as we were being poured into

We are witnessing others enter the barn doors
We are cheering them
Ushering them in
With hopes they too will find something
Very Special here

"Thank you," I say
To my listening friend
"I know I talk about the Black Barn a lot!"
She tells me to talk about it all I want
How she enjoys hearing about it

Look who came through the door today
My patient friend Tammi!
My heart jumps a little
Not true, it jumps way more than a little
My body follows, taking a little leap
I run to greet her

Welcome to the Black Barn
Take a look around
Have a seat
Receive all that is here
For you


Diane Mann 2020

It's Time

Amazed, I am
at the wretchedness
of man—of me
Stunned, I look on
then look away

Amazed, I am
at grace overflowing
to man—to me
Stunned, I look on
then look away

Perhaps the time has come
to, with courage, linger
and look a little longer
at what is.

Diane Mann, 2020

Among Us

Fear is in the air
A virus spreading too
We step back from each other
More than we used to

We're full of care
Burdened by it, even
We try not to talk about it
But our efforts fail

News of outbreaks, numbers deceased
Make us edgy
Ill at ease
I don't know when the problem
Flipped from remote
"Out there somewhere" to
Right now
Right here
But it did

Where we once said
"Have a nice day"
To people we greeted
We now say
"Stay well"
No physical touching
But our gazes linger a bit longer
To let each other know
We mean it
And we do!
People say it to me
And I to them

I suppose we are touching each other
Now more than ever
The kindnesses are lights in the dark
Streams of goodness
Winding through
Harsh terrain

How can we help
The vulnerable among us?
People are planning
Looking for ways to watch out
For the other

Yes, fear is in the air
A virus too
It's almost palpable
But I notice the care among us
The most

Diane Mann 2020

Her Beads, My Words - Creativity Observed

Necklace and photo by Magpie Madness Jewelry, Etsy

Commitment to her craft
I see it in the jewelry maker
Arranging her beads
One after the other
The next
  then the next
Saying, it is good
And finished
  then creating again

Is each piece her favorite?
Certainly not
But by faith she 
Reaches for her tools
Trusting the idea-giver
Using the materials before her

I'm blessed to see what she's made
It spurs me to be
Working on my own creations
But when I stare too long
At her gifts
I neglect to open
My own

God, 
Make me
Not so frightened
To pick up my tools
Arranging one word with the next
  then the next
Until we create something
Together
And say how lovely it is.

Diane Mann, 2020

For Zac

I look at you with a blank stare
The young man
Who married my daughter
And fathered my granddaughter

You're asking about my dad
Listening
As we who knew him
Recall
What he was like
(How long do you have?)

I didn't know what to say, except
I wish you could have known him

I can tell you this:
If you've seen a kind man
Who is also strong
A man who can laugh at himself
Who is also proud
A man whose faith grows
With each impossible trial
A man pointing out the pretty in nature
Who recreates it in his art
A man who welcomes others
Yet needs time alone
A man who asks, "Why me?"
Wrought with pain
Who also asks, "Why me?"
Weighted with gratitude and wonder
A man falling more in love with God
To whom sharing Love is everything
An anxious man
Still learning
To trust
With an increasingly grateful heart
For all God has given him

Then you've seen someone like my dad,
Whom, as you've witnessed by our words
Loved Deeply and is
Deeply Loved.

Diane Mann, 2020

Unparalyzed

That funny thing called fear

keeps us from taking one step

toward what we want

because we freeze up at the thought

of not having things turn out the way

we picture

Paralyzing fear guarantees we will never

get where we desire to go

(perhaps fear is not so funny a thing after all)

But taking one step,

breathing one breath,

performing one act

toward the intended destination,

the hoped-for dream

Makes fear dissipate

Fear fears courage

and shrivels at the sight of it

fear loathes love

and scurries away

in its presence

perhaps fear is itself

a coward?

Fear freezes me, but only temporarily

when I move,

fear stops dead

in its tracks

and I am free to live,

to be – and dream,

again.

Diane Carver Mann 2018

Betrayal

Oh, Fall
You came
You left
Without my usual adoration
Of brilliant color
My I-can't-hold-it-in
Affection upon sensing
The first sign of your appearing
My usual appreciation
For space created
When one by one
Leaves
In their time
Detach and fall
Barren and blank
You leave the trees
Room for new things to happen
I always say
How I love new things to happen

For your arrival
I ached
Like a lover
Awaiting the homecoming
Of her overseas sailor
Be gone, Summer
I growled
I cannot endure you
One more minute
But seasons
I can neither rush
Nor cause to linger
No matter my desire

Oh, Fall
You came
But took with you
One I love
With the first breeze
She fell away
And none can catch her
Or reattach her to life's branch
Bringing her back
To me
My dreams have tried
To make it seem like
She's here
But I open my eyes
To Winter
Empty Winter

Oh, Fall
How dare you?

Diane Mann 2015

Next Time it Rains

I received good news
Really good news
Balloon-releasing
Jump-up-and-down news
I was cured of hepatitis C!
I had told my mom
Of the preliminary results
Months before --
The chances-are-I'm-cured news
She had cried happy tears
Expressing her joy
But this was final
The treatment had worked
The virus was gone
My blood was clean
As though I never was infected

I wanted to call her
But her funeral was just days before
She was no longer here
A friend said
Talk to her anyway
It will seem as though
She hears

I did
I picked up the phone
And dialed her number
Three tones
A woman's voice
The number you have dialed
Is no longer in service
Please check the number
And dial again
Over and over she said
The same words
As though I hadn't heard
Them the first time
Or the second

Above the recording
I spoke
My sobs chopping the words
Into pieces
Hi, Mom.  I just wanted to tell you
Some Very Good News
The final results are in
I have been declared CURED!
I knew you'd be happy about it
So just had to tell you
I'm talking as though
You can hear me
And I hope you can
Thank you for being happy for me
I spoke as though she heard

It was a sunny day
But to myself I said
Next time it rains
It will be as though
She got the news
And is shedding happy tears
From heaven
Next time it rains
It will be as though
She got the news
It will be as though
I'll know

Diane Mann 2015

Temporary Winner

Separation hurts
death stings
and plays the victor
like a big show-off

There is Life
beyond death
the gap is but a veil
one day to be lifted

Silencing the bully
for good.


Diane Mann, 2015

Meadow Goodness

What is it about a mountain meadow?
Is it its spaciousness
Sent out like an invitation
For the weary to rest
For cluttered minds
To have worries dance away
Upon the breeze?
Is it the way surrounding cliffs
Become strong arms embracing
And soft soils
Become God's lap
In which to nestle?

Or is it the gathering of flowers
Like friends old and new
Many whose names I recall
Others I've inquired of
But soon forgot
Like church people I have greeted
Week after week
We've exchanged stories
About our lives
Cheered one another on
It would seem silly now to ask
"What's your name?"
Too much has been shared
So we just keep visiting anyway

The purple grasses
Responding to the wind's caresses
Delight my eyes
Tickle my hopes
Wide sky tears open
The curtain of my soul
Beyond which lie
Dreams forgotten
But still alive
Still
Now
Very much alive

A granite boulder
Like a custom piece of furniture
Saying, "I was made just for you!"
Beckons me off the trail
Against it I lean
Into this moment
With abandon
My mind not comprehending
And ceasing to try
Perhaps its glory
Is not for me to understand
I conclude
But to stand under

Body reclined
Heart inclined
I rest
Here
Sinking into the goodness of the meadow
While the goodness of the meadow
Sinks into me.

Diane Mann, 2015

Pine Bough

Grateful

Receptive

Resting

Still, yet being moved

And moving me

Suspended

Planted

Productive

Peace-filled

Rich with color

Willing to give

Willing to receive

Happy to be

A pine bough.

diane mann 2015

Jealousy - (of Dave, who got to sit where CS Lewis sat and what God told him there)

"You belong here,"
You told him
"You're one of them,"
As he sat
In the seats
In the very room
Where great writers
Once sat.
"No fair," I quip.
"I want You to
Confer upon me
The identity of
Being a writer,
A thinker,
An expresser
Of great truths!"
I'm happy for him
On the outside
But growl inside
Longing
For You, God
To tell me
Who I am
What gift I can
Offer You --
Offer to others.
Yet I know
Somewhere deep down
I've always known
I too am
Called to write.

Break the dam
In me
Father God!
I resist
Because I feel
Inadequate
Let the words
Flow
Like the river before me
Flows
Unhindered by fear
Pulsing with
Movement
Generated by
The power of
Your Love.
I'm tired of
Stubbornly
Refusing to be
Who I'm made
To be!
I don't know quite how
To receive the gift
Don't trust myself to
Use the gift
Work with me
Patient Teacher.

Diane Mann, 2012

Temple

Zion National Park

Hats off
Heads bowed
Lifted
Then lowered again
Hands folded
Creator bids
We enter
Are seated
Settled
Ushered to the arena
Of this place
This leaf-decorated
Holy space
My heart expands
From shoulder
To shoulder
It can hold no more
Green, gold -- blazing gold --
Orange
And that indescribable red
Bright, warm
Deep, rich beauty
Dizzying, dazzling loveliness
Mangling me
In a way that is really good
Rearranging me
Can I look upon You
God of all, God of me
And ever be the same?
I think not
So I sit
And gaze at Your works
You'll forgive me
Won't you
If I must look away
For a moment
To catch my breath
Then look upon Your splendor
Once again?
And if this pen,
My hand, my mind
Stop working in unison
To express
My utter adoration
It's because we don't
Know what else
To say
So will quietly
Rest
And simply
Bow.

Diane Mann, 2012

The Wall

I've been here before

Temple of Sinawava, Zion National Park

Having followed
Accepting the invitation
Wide eyed
Open hearted
Hope filled
Stepping down a new path
Skipping
Receptive
Joyful
Trusting
So very trusting
I entered
With the promise
Of Your Presence
To then suddenly
Cruelly
Slam up against
A wall
Hard, crashing
Huge
Damning
Dark
There I wait
Befuddled
Horrified
Confused
Hope drained
I lean flat
Against its
Surface cold
I pound
I scream
Sobbing
From parts of my Soul
I didn't know
Existed
Will the tears
Ever stop?
Banging my head against
The rock
Desperately
Wondering what
Happened, where
Did I turn wrongly?
Exhausted I can
Flail about no more
I hear a rhythmic
Beat of a heart
Jesus
It's Your heart
A distant song
Becomes clearer
Louder than my
Cries I am quieted
With Love resting on
The Chest of
Jesus, My Rock.

Diane Mann, 2012

Come, Weary Ones

Come, weary ones
To me, you bearing heavy loads
Not meant for your tired shoulders
I have a gift for you!
It won't add another ounce to
The weight you bear
Nor another item to your to-do list
Or your how-you-ought-to-be list
I promise!
Come, your efforts exhausted
To me, your hope untraceable
I have a gift for you!
Something for which your soul longs
Something I eagerly offer
From my storehouse of grace
And love (my very heart toward you)
Custom made
Your name on it
I have a gift for you!
Come, I'll receive you
To me, I'll restore you
Here you will find rest
A pillow
For your very sleepy soul.
Come
To me, you
Come.

Diane Mann 2013

For My Sunshine Friend (A Poem for Sheryl)

Today I wish you sunshine
The kind of day that hugs you
With its warmth
Inviting you to stay
   to rest
   to ponder
   to watch
For things you've never seen before

The kind of day
Whose breezes
Bring comfort and delight
Carrying the waves, the clouds
Colorful kites
And your cares
Far away
So far away

The kind of day wherein
Birds soar high above
Then park themselves
Before you
Giving you a front-row seat
To their busy play
And joy-filled chatter

The kind of day
That lingers long
After night has come
And the favored season passes
Because it reached
Deep inside you
With its bright
Generous light

So when the storms come
And the winds
Turn bitter cold
Something
Somewhere
In your soul
Is still warm
And knows love

Today I wish you
Warm, inviting, exploring
Comforting, delightful, playful
Outreaching, generous, bright
Loving
Sunshine
Like the kind of friend you are
To me.

Diane Mann, 2014

My Part

Mine is not to strain harder to believe
     but to lean in,
            rest upon
                   and receive.


diane mann, 2013

Inescapable Love

Oh, the riches of this day
Your Presence with me, God
(Do you know how much I love that with-me part about You?)

Shine of the sun illuminating 
Warming me, heating 
The land
Melting the last patches
Of winter's stubborn snow
Causing me to try to escape 
Its harsh glare
Hot, scathing sun
A chilling iceberg
When compared
With Your burning Love
Melting stubborn me
Igniting this sometimes frozen heart
To love You
To love me
To love others

Oh, the riches of this day
You 
With me!

Diane Mann, 2013

End of a Generous Day

Gently the day

Having handed out

So many gifts

Says Goodbye

I smile

In grateful return

And attempt

To contain them all.

diane mann, 2013

An Irish Blessing - to my Carver Cousins

May the warm love of the Sun embrace you
May the joyful smiles of the Blossoms elicit a smile in return
May the tranquil peace of the Stars quiet your spirit
May the fertile soil of the Fields stir hope within you
As you create and recreate
As you toil and rest
As you give love and receive love
As you teach and are taught
In the questions and the answers
In the draughts and the winters that too long linger
In the exhilarating and the mundane
In the being and the becoming
All you were made to be

Until that happy day when again we meet --
Or greet one another for the very first time.
Diane Carver Mann, 2014