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.

“Late summer, and the roses in second bloom, know what’s coming. Beauty and death mingle in this fine poem by Anya Krugovoy Silver, as they do in so many of the poems in this moving, accomplished anthology. Pain and anger often coexist with humor here, though not with self -pity. If language can be redemptive for reader and/or writer, it certainly is in these pages.”
–Linda Pastan

book cover of Thing Thing Called Poetry edited by Kathleen Staudt

Poem of the Season

Lenten Villanelle

It seems too soon to let the winter go
The season turns, but still I want to stay
Something is stirring, deep beneath the snow.

The barren landscape beckons me to slow
My walking, notice hues of gray.
It seems too soon to let the winter go.

The grey of beech bark gives a silvery glow
As clinging dry leaves rustle, shine and play
Something is taking root beneath the snow

Days lengthen, and the light begins to grow
More springlike. In the holly, robins play
It seems too soon to let the winter go.

The early signs of life emerge now. Slow
Forsythia buds and snowdrops want to say:
Something is stirring, deep beneath the snow.

In winter’s bareness, words have space to grow.
I’ll welcome spring’s abundance, But today
It seems too soon to let the winter go
Something is taking root, and stirring, deep beneath the snow.

(from Good Places)