What the Earth Offers


At that point where the land had bested us
(Its paths too steep, its briars too thick)
We gave up and came down toward water,
That yet-untainted haven of sea and sky and sound.

And what a surrender it was, that coming down:
The glory of land giving way to water,
Fish quiet and dreaming in its half-lit depths.

I remembered then the story of water,
How it stood formless, dark, and deep,
Until the unmoved mover moved upon it
And so carved with light the earth’s first poem;
A poem of life and leaf and song; 
One of darkness, longing, grief. 
A small song for every traveler, 
A shield for every trial.

A poem of what the earth offers, and nothing more.

-first appeared in Bird’s Thumb



Birdsong


I reach for it,
just as a plant
must reach 
toward sunlight.

Roots forgotten,
I drink it
like a dream—a dream
of rain and wind.

A simple sermon;
a happy hypnosis— 
I gather the notes 
like berries. 

Their nectar 
starts me singing
a small song 
of my own.





After You Left

​
Some of us forgot
how to warm ourselves alone.
That’s the way it was with me.

Hands cold, barely moving,
the breath
frozen inside the lungs…

Too cold 
to even call your name,
I watched and waited. 

Years fled, stars shifted.
I remained, 
shivering, waiting, 

remembering, haunted
by the steady rise and fall
of my own voice,

the constant presence
of no one but myself.