Nancy Lankston
“Wherever I stand, I hear the trees petition.” –William Stafford
Patterns
I think of how the rain
is washing life away.
How do I know what life
has in store for me?
It is strange that I cannot
figure out the pattern.
The trees are so perfect,
they know how to grow.
— Leticia Gray
This amazing poem is from Salting the Ocean; 100 Poems by Young Poets.
Poems in the book were selected by Naomi Shihab Nye.
All the poets were schoolkids in grades 1-12 when they wrote their poems.
The trees are whispering to me,
reminding me of my roots, and my reach
… shhhhhh…
can you hear them?
Selflessly sharing their subtle song
~Jeb Dickerson
hours of forgetting
then a flash of sunlight
wind ruffles wet flesh
awash in sensation
heart stills, time stops
and I open myself
to this
falling awake
to sun and bone
wind on water
I am here
all here in
sacred space
☾☽
I sit in Ridgen shrine room
I sit, I breathe
I scrawl words on paper
I feel happy and peaceful
I sit, I breathe
It begins to snow outside
I sit, I breathe
I write word after word
I feel sad, so sad
an old wound exposed
Snow falls
I sit, I breathe
Machinery hums outside
out of sight but still with me
I sit, I breathe
My hip aches, my nose is numb
I sit, I breathe
and wonder, why numb?
the pitch of a roof outside
catches my gaze
I sit, I breathe
My hip aches
I breathe with the ache
the hum, the roof
Snow falls
I sit, I breathe
I feel hungry
the hum, the ache
and the roof go on.
Green, everywhere green
Falling water cascades
Ripples out anew.
Icy fingers caress
I glide through
Search for other side.
A shiver of fear
I am in the heart
Behind the falling tears.