Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Sixth Day

If you've been reading the poetry here, you've probably noticed by now that I am more inspired by nature than anything else.  To me, the math is pretty simple.  We were created, and the world around us was created, to be together.  No matter how distinct we try to make ourselves from the rest of creation, it is a fundamental fact of our existence.  In fact, the greater the distance we try to put between ourselves and nature, the more we try to separate ourselves from it, the more we see ourselves in it, at least the true parts of ourselves.  So, if you want to find truth, look to nature - it's incapable of lying.    

The Sixth Day

Traveling in Alaska one summer
I witnessed the land
-no, not witnessed-
I became the land. 

Because I
became the land, I know
what it feels like to be
gouged by the scratching
fingernails of glaciers
pulling back,
exposing my fresh, bright earth
to the air
for the first time in eons
if ever.
Wild rampant green
born from gray ice.

I know the feeling
of having my old skin
punctured through by new bones.
Clustered mountains masses
hefted upwards
ridges and peaks
jagged, sharp and almost
as on the sixth day.

And even though I wasn’t there to see it
I know the burning and the burnt
of charred forests fire flattened
tree stubble sprayed across
five hundred square miles
of my face.
I feel it there, too
life-mad surging green against the black.

As the land
I watch the sun and track
its awkward movements
unsteady as a foal
wobbling to surprising places
In the sky.
And I remember
-like it was yesterday-
the thrilling weakness
of learning my legs.

I am inside the wild rose scrambling
my slender arms unfurling, entwining
raucous, tumbling reckless over everything.
Charged by the lightning bolt of life
propelled by the lifting swell of creation
I touch everything
with pink blossoms.

One summer in Alaska I recognized
a certain truth:
it is still the sixth day of creation
in the land that is me.


  1. After reading this, you need a Native American name... something like "whitewater runner or falls in canyon or canyon carver" because your stories run deep and penetrate the spirit.

  2. Adam - Thanks for the comments! I know you didn't mean it this way, but I did almost fall in the Grand Canyon once, so "Falls in Canyon" is actually pretty accurate.

    Seriously, I appreciate the sincerity behind your comments. I know you think deeply and feel intensely about many things, and it makes me happy that we can communicate at that level. Keep reading!

  3. How beautiful. I could imagine myself feeling what you were feeling - your images are so vivid. Keep writing!

  4. Thanks for your support. And thanks for the shout out on Facebook!