Poem for the week of January 7, 2008

Tree Pose

I want to be long enough in one spot

  so that the trees hold memories of me in their hearts

  deep under their bark

  and can tell stories of things I've done

  and relate conversations we have had together.

When I am a very old woman

  I want my body gnarled and craggy

  and all used up

  to twist and plant itself into Tree Pose

  as I set myself free again

  onto those sweet, sweet

  inner paths to home.

--- CAF--

Poem for the week of January 14,2008

The Cries of Wild Things

The hawk's clear, shrill whistle-cry

    cracked the stillness of the woods.

Jolted, at first I didn't know

   what the noise was...

It sounded like -

   a great mournful shriek of pain.

But then the red tail flew from the trees

   into the open air over the golden fields

   and shrieking and crying it made

   a graceful flight

   across the next two fields

   and into the far off forest.

Its screams stirred deep compassion in my heart

   though if the cries were pain or joy I never knew.

The cries of wild things -

  coyote yelps and howls,

   the "yikes" of the little frogs,

   unmelodious crow caws,

   the peep of the hummingbird,

all add qualities of pleasure and poignancy

   to this life of ours -

   if we but listen.

And in thankfulness for these gifts

   I will raise my voice

   to cry for the sorrows grieved

   and to sing praises for the joys celebrated

   in the cries of wild things.

    - CAF -