The blooming world
appears in you,
a raw and breathing
field of grace,
the color of smoke and sky,
of sacred fire
and birthing earth.
The ferns speak
a fresh language today,
a whispered call
for you to feel your own
gentle holiness,
abiding in the skin
of your feet,
the bones
of your hands,
and in the holy map
of your spirit’s
patient walk.
--4/7/10
Posts
A beautiful poem and lovely tribute. Your words remind me of the Southern Mountains in the spring and takes me back years to when I was hiking the Appalachian trail
ReplyDeleteThank you. did you hike the entire thing? I've only hiked parts of it. which part of the Southern Mountains?
ReplyDeleteI would also love to hike the Bartram Trail one day.
Hey, do you know much about Everett Ruess, by the way, Sage? a fascination of mine, he is.
ReplyDeleteI don't know Ruess--he sounds like an interesting character--kind of a pre-Breece D'J Pancake (he's an interesting writer that took his life at a young age). I don't know why, but googling Ruess, I thought of Pancake.
ReplyDeleteYes, I have hiked all the AT between 1983-1987--there are blog posts about doing it (including some on N. GA) in my blog. I think it was 85 when I did the Georgia part.
An exquisite poem!
ReplyDeleteand the ferns would not lie
ReplyDelete