Out of wonder by wild design,
like greenheads rising, our ascension
from cattail ooze on a Sabbath
when I was a boy surprised
with my father—and all times since
shaking off the last glistening drops
to fly—no church or sermon necessary
to feel whole, to shed the nonessentials,
to become awestruck, he implied.
Even the shadow beneath the ridge
of a rattlesnake track teaches
by design, direction and urgency
left to fade within the long history
of earth. We cannot help building
fences in our minds to keep the wild
away and apart from our selfishness.
But only out of wonder may we remove
the barbed wire from our hearts.
Thanks for that one
Your welcome, Ben 🙂 Once in a while I stumbled into one.
Worthy of the Ballymaloe International Poetry Prize, Bridport prize, Griffin Poetry Prize but especially the golden heart of everyone that loves the serenity and wonderfulness of nature. The glory of every sunrise. Thank you.
Don’t know about all those prizes, Richard, but thank you 🙂