Poetry, Prose and Pondering
Writing is another way I listen. Sometimes something catches me—a tree illuminated by winter light, a bird call, a dream, a loss, a moment of wonder—and words begin gathering around it. I don’t always know whether what arrives will become a poem, a story, a reflection, or simply a small pondering that wants somewhere to land. I have learned not to worry too much about that.
Much of my writing grows from the same curiosity that runs through Tree Song: What happens when we pay attention? What might the living world be saying? What changes when we let ourselves enter the conversation?
These are some of the words that have found me along the way.
Some are meant to be read quietly.
Some are meant to be spoken aloud.
And some, perhaps, are simply songs that asked me to listen long enough to write them down.
Welcome to my small gathering of poetry, prose and pondering.
Arbutus
Arbutus; dazzling beauty, blazing cinnamon amber and gold, gilded in winter light, you impart such resonant joy.
Branched twist of arms give form to void; with masterwork of elemental rule; rain, wind and scorch of sun you employ.
Enraptured, your generosity of presence strips me of the weary; in gratitude, humbled and exalted, I ground into this moment.
Listen to a Poem
