Thursday, June 06, 2019

Thursday Poem - When I am Wise

When I am wise in the speech of grass,
I forget the sound of words
and walk into the bottomland
and lie with my head on the ground
and listen to what grass tells me
about small places for wind to sing,
about the labor of insects,
about shadows dank with spice,
and the friendliness of weeds.

When I am wise in the dance of grass,
I forget the name and run
into the rippling bottomland
and lean against the silence which flows
out of the crumpled mountains
and rises through slick blades, pods,
wheat stems, and curly shoots,
and is carried by wind for miles
from my outstretched hands.

Mary Gray
from Wild Song: Poems of the Natural World


kerrdelune said...

One of those Thursdays when the chosen poem does not cleave to the right image the first few times around. Happy with this one though...

littlemancat said...


Tabor said...

I have been rushing about and this brought me nicely for a big smile and sigh.

Guy said...

Wow just stunning.