Monday, April 8, 2013

the possibility of dogwood

The possibility of dogwood
sings in the simple
prayer you whisper.
Our family of sassafras
and wind, of bloodroot
and mourning cloak,
announces the violent
and blessed 
claims of birth
and breathing. The scrutiny
of lilies and thunderheads
always finds me, always
remembers how I burn
like a desert without
you, and how
your healing fire
declares itself
again and again
in the living thirst of
your breath.

----©Laura Sorrells 2013
all rights reserved

This found poem came from Pattiann Rogers' book The Dream of the Marsh Wren: Writing as Reciprocal Creation.


  1. Lovely, and so were the dogwoods when I was down south earlier this week...

  2. thank you. they're just starting here. I took this on Kennesaw Mountain a few years ago.


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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