The forest closes behind me and now this subtle path at my feetis the red thread between worlds,a path made by the soft stepsof wild things who are at homein the tangled mystery. But I am new to this way of walking—how the trail flirts and teases,fading and hiding and calling you on;how it disappears… Continue reading Game Trails
Author: James A. Pearson
Where We Are Now
The day after the election was called I went for a walk in the local forest. It was a cold day. Thick clouds had layered the sky since morning. But just before the sun went down it slipped beneath the gray and lit the trees in a beautiful, heatless glow. Something about the whole autumn… Continue reading Where We Are Now
In a Democracy…
This should go without saying but right now America needs a reminder. Click the image below to download the full-res version and share it wherever you can. (Also if you’re able, you can donate to the ACLU here to help ensure that every vote counts.)
What To Do After Voting
Voting in this election is critical. But it’s not enough. This poem doesn’t pretend to be a full prescription for what our country needs. It’s just my way of acknowledging that all electoral choices are imperfect. Because even more important is what happens between elections—the long, slow work of building a culture of love and… Continue reading What To Do After Voting
A New Practice
As I watched the wave of COVID-19 build I felt a deep sadness growing in myself. There would be so much suffering. And now that wave has started to break. I have friends who’s livelihoods are threatened. I have acquaintances who are sick and fearing for their lives. I have friends of friends who’ve already… Continue reading A New Practice
Surrounded
A couple weeks ago, as the full weight of this crisis started to settle on me, I organized a meeting of a small contemplative group I’m part of. But with only an hour left before the meeting I couldn’t figure out how to open it. What words or images could possibly meet people where they’re… Continue reading Surrounded
Meanwhile
My body’s been holding a lot of anxiety lately. I search for information, get anxious, so search for more information, and the cycle continues. Last Thursday I took a break and went to a local park that has a few hundred acres of old growth forest. This poem came out of that short trip. I… Continue reading Meanwhile
Nobody Knew
I wrote this little poem last year as spring announced itself in the Northwest. One of the joys of poetry is looking back and seeing how your intuition captured something that you wouldn’t have been able to articulate directly. One thing this poem captured is the dance between two parts of life. There’s the… Continue reading Nobody Knew
The Day Mary Oliver Died
Mary Oliver died one year ago today. I think Wild Geese might have been the first poem that spoke to my adult self. Not that my adult self knew what to do with it. But it called from just over a far horizon that was barely coming into view. It gave me something to muddle… Continue reading The Day Mary Oliver Died
I accidentally memorized 16 poems last year. Here’s how.
On a Friday evening last March I was sitting next to a stranger at dinner. We’d just started a weekend poetry retreat so we pretty quickly got to talking about our own writing practices. That’s when I heard myself say something that changed the rest of my year: Musicians don’t play only their own music.… Continue reading I accidentally memorized 16 poems last year. Here’s how.