Poet, Scholar, Teacher, Spiritual Guide

Photo of Kathleen Staudt outside in a pink shirt

Trained as an academic, Kathy has read and studied poetry for most of her life, writing and editing two scholarly books and many articles on the work of the British poet and artist David Jones. She began writing poetry herself at midlife and has found that the poetry has become a spiritual practice of holy attention, enabling her to dwell deeply in the richness and challenges of life, loss, relationships and transitions. Her retreat work and teaching focus on connections between poetry, creativity and the spiritual life, while her many years of training and experience in the art of spiritual direction inform her one-on-one work accompanying people on their faith journeys.

Recently released from Wipf and Stock publishers

VIRIDITAS: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS is now available!

Drawing on the spirituality of St. Hildegard of Bingen, these poems tap into the energy of green-ness (viriditas) as it pulses through nature and through the times of loss, disorientation and fresh hope that we encounter in our lives.  Sinking into the experience of sacred place, they lead us into woodlands and ocean beaches, local gardens and distant places of pilgrimage. Through celebration and elegy, biblical story and the natural world, these poems invite readers to experiences of meditation and even prayer, embracing all that is green and growing in our lives.

—Kathleen Staudt’s Viriditas is a joyous tribute to nature, green in shoot and bough. In the tradition of Mary Oliver, her poems revel in the seasons closely observed, from the colors and shapes of leaves to the subtle hues of love.  Like a wise bee, Staudt confects the honey of contemplation from all the changes and chances of this life. —Barbara Newman, Northwestern University

Kathleen Staudt’s Viriditas is a ribbon of bright light, a gift that invites us to celebrate with her the greening energy of the sacred in poems that open to us like seeds in a soft spring rain.  Her poems are an invitation to discover anew how the experiences of being human can daily point us toward the miracles to be found in each moment. “Breathing in.  Breathing out.”  —Michael Glaser, Maryland Poet Laureate 2004-2009

You can order directly from the publisher Wipf and Stock, or visit my author page on amazon for access to this and other books of mine, including the kindle version of this one.   Watch my events tab for updates on book launches, interviews etc.  If you’d like me to send you a signed copy, please message me through the contacts tab of this website and we can work that out.
book cover of Thing Thing Called Poetry edited by Kathleen Staudt

Poem of the Season

Judgement Day

The nightmare returns: It is 1981,
Inauguration Day, and on the television screens
The Good Guys are in. “Today the world is bright,” they say.
Now we will be led by
People like us.”
In the glare of celebration, whole neighborhoods dissolve
Off the screen, invisible,
Disappeared.

Walking toward the subway, from where I have been teaching
Young adults who never learned to read in school,
With sudden clarity, I see
Boarded-up houses,
Dazed and aimless men standing on corners.
A grandmother holds a child by one hand,
Dragging a half-full grocery cart.
A broken church marquee proclaims: JOHN 3:16:
AND GOD SO LOVE. .. . .

Though I ride this subway line, under decaying streets,
And come home to this block of shabby walk-ups,
I could blend in with those bright rulers and their wives.
Our apartment here is newly renovated.
My face is white, my clothes are new.
I am a “young professional”
Desirable tenants, we are just passing through.

The housekeeper has been here.
The walls seem whiter than I remembered,
Clean without my labor.
But on the gleaming window frame
A brown cockroach, the size of my thumb
Looks at me.

In this city, such creatures inhabit all our houses.
The rich use chemicals to remove them when they come.
The poor live with them, having no choice.
Reaching for the spray can, I forget for a moment
The colonies of his fellows
Who live within these walls, and under these streets,
And in my neighbors’ houses.

Looking back at him,
I decide
Because I can decide
To let him live.

From Annunciations: Poems out of Scripture (2003;2013)