Thursday, December 31, 2015

A Poem By David Wagoner

________________________________________________________________________________________________

       LOST       
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.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


2 comments:

  1. So much more welcoming than
    a sophisticated room of humans
    using judgmental eyes to unnaturally
    crush spirit with eyelash fans.

    ReplyDelete

  2. The forest breathes
    better air in Wagoner's poem
    than we do in real life.

    But where is YOUR poem
    about "eyelash fans?"

    ReplyDelete