Nobody knewthe cherry treeswould bloom today.How quietly they must havewhispered together,huddled in thedeepest ends of their rootsas winter’s death creptdown their branches.But slowly— as slowly as the Earthtilts her headback toward the Sun—a chorus grew, some ancient hymn of faith, and the lifethey’d been protectingtook heart and began to rise intoscarred trunksand broken branchesuntil all… Continue reading Nobody Knew
Category: Poetry
The Day Mary Oliver Died
There are treesin the forest near my homethat hold the world together,their roots marriedto the bones of the earth. The little boy in me knowsthey are eternal,the man I’ve becomehas seen them fallen,their ancient trunks softening,the border between themselves and everythingopening, slowly opening. If only she could tell us nowwhat it is to fall—how would… Continue reading The Day Mary Oliver Died
Wintering
Now the leaves have fallen.The trees have pulled their alivenessback in from their branches,down into their fortress trunksand the dark, subterranean closenessof their roots. Every year they let go ofexactly what everyone saysis most beautiful about themto save their own lives. The time will come when you, too, have to drop all the ways you’ve… Continue reading Wintering
Let the Wind
Imagineif all you had to doto be beautiful was to let the wind dance you where you stand as you grow into the only shapeyou ever had. Here’s the little tree that helped inspire this poem: This little poem is about a shivering little tree near the top of a mountain. But it’s also about… Continue reading Let the Wind
A poem about life’s fearsome autumns (and surviving them)
When I first wrote this poem I thought it would be the beginning of a longer piece, something with more of a redemptive arc. I tried and tried to find the rest of the poem, but nothing else fit. Reading it now, I love that it stops where it does. That it doesn’t try to… Continue reading A poem about life’s fearsome autumns (and surviving them)
Look to the Sky
I wrote this poem about a month ago while watching the sky one evening. It was based mostly on an intuition and a gathering sadness about all we’re losing in the world. I wasn’t sure if or how I was going to share it. But then today the New York Times published this article: Birds… Continue reading Look to the Sky
Vows to the Mystery
When Elizabeth and I were planning our wedding ceremony we wanted to acknowledge the uncertainty we were stepping into—the unknowable decades ahead, the mysterious ways we’d both change, the inevitable seasons of exile and loss right alongside those of connection and joy. So we decided to say a second set of vows. We called them… Continue reading Vows to the Mystery
The Space Between Us
Don’t try to give meall of yourself—as if you would, as ifthe wilderness that bears your namewas yours to give. Instead let’s live like mountains: two worlds rooted together but each cutting its own shapeinto the changing sky. I’ll be the one to see you radiant in the morning light, and to watch as evening’s… Continue reading The Space Between Us
The First Promise
Sometimes you need to hidefrom everything you’ve promised to become, so you can find the first promise:the one you and the soft worldsang to each other down beneath the tall bushesalong the old stream bed,back when nobody knew exactly where you were,before the personeveryone needed you to belearned to find you even there. That place… Continue reading The First Promise
Permission to Lose Interest
Looking up through the windshield atdark wings and a white headcrossing high above I-5. “Just a seagull,” I hear myself say—permission tolose interest, permission to shut downthe aqueducts of wonder. How quickly I abandon my enchantment like it’sa grenade about to bloom or a great eyeopening. Because really I know that the shape of those… Continue reading Permission to Lose Interest