The longer I’m blessed to be here, the more I realize (make real) the wonder that poetry is a state of being and not a craft of language.
YOU ASK ABOUT POETRY
You ask from an island so far away
it remains unspoiled. To walk quietly
till the miracle in everything speaks is
poetry. You want to look in your soul
and in everyday life, as you search for
stones on the beach. Four thousand
miles away, as the sun ices the snow,
I smile. After years of looking, I can
only say that searching for small
things worn by the deep is the art
of poetry. But listening to what
they say is the poem.
A Question to Walk With: Describe a time when you slowed down enough to hear the miracle in everything speak. What circumstances led to this experience and what did the miracle in everything seem to say?