Although I firmly maintain the beginning of a new year is whenever the school year kicks off in the autumn, there is something about the down time and cold/grey weather (finally!) that yields to introspection. This is aided by reorganizing and sorting through closets.
This poem arrived as the daily Writer's Almanac selection~enjoy.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
"Lost" by David Wagoner from Traveling Light: Collected and New Poems. © University of Illinois Press, 1999.
That is just the most beautiful, restful poem.
ReplyDeleteSo needed.
So necessary today.
Simple & lovely.
DeleteI so love this poem. One I always come back to
ReplyDelete