Friday, April 12, 2013

light's attention

Mountain laurel
glows in light's attention.
Every minute
seems to wait
on the wind
to trade in winter
for the humming
urgency of
----©Laura Sorrells 2013
all rights reserved

This was a found poem, culled from Dave Bonta's blog The Morning Porch and the responses to it.


  1. Stunning! There is a memory in me of finding that light along the American River here and just standing and looking up. Part of me is still there 50 years later.

  2. i found it so difficult to cut through the light of the photograph to the poem. this is no fault of the poem's. the photo is just so damned powerful. holy.


  3. well, the photo outshines the poem, though I do resist comparisons when I can. thank you, erin. that spot on Talking Rock Creek is a holy one, for sure. geo, thank you. I know what you mean about part of you still being there. part of me is still in Arizona, next to Wupatki. for sure.

  4. I do like that photo and mountain laurel just brings back good memories of hiking in the Appalachians during spring

  5. It does for me, too. Thank you.


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About Me

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Georgia, United States
I live at the edge of the forest in a little town in the north Georgia mountains. I teach sixth grade Language Arts and am writing a memoir of sorts about family, spirituality, and narrative. I am also exploring a possible writing project having to do with contemporary lay contemplative experience and how it might be informed by the Desert Fathers and Mothers of early Christianity. I am a relatively recent convert to Roman Catholicism and an admirer of Pope Francis, Leonardo Boff, Joan Chittister, and Richard Rohr. I'm a Lay Associate of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Monastery in Conyers, Georgia. I am interested in indigenous cultures, narratives, and spirituality, especially how these can inform my spirituality as a lay contemplative. I write, read, take pictures, play around with creating ephemera from paper and cloth and other organic things. I cook, hike, watch wildlife, and collect random bits of interesting oddness, both tangible and abstract. I am a seer of smallness and a caretaker of ridiculous minutiae. If you want, e-mail me at or