When the wind/sky really is God
by Ed Higgins
and all the trees are holding
their limbs up in prayer
and rain is mating with soil
and loam itself is sperm
life for the oak, or maple
or any other tree
and you stand there admiring
the green, or red, or orange
or brown leaves depending on
the season's fecundity
or maybe just enjoying
the stark naked tree in winter
and the whole thing is a gift
to the wind/sky God
or to whatever is beyond the sky
where solar winds that are now swirling
streams out into the infinite universe
which is hope or at least something like it
looping back toward us at the speed of prayer
where it helps keep pace with dreams
that can eventually outdistance even
those forms of darkness at the center
of nearly everyone's need for
forgetting and forgiveness.
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Author's Note
A seasonal observation of sorts. Recently published in The Windhover, Nathaniel L. Hansen, Editor, Spring 2017, pp. 96-97.
Interesting thinking happening here. I like watching that. Enjoyed. *
A beautiful poem.
The dreamy hope is perfect for this season. Those last two lines bring it all together.
Marvelous
Yes.
*
Prayer as a form of communication, dream as a form of memory: curious things you don't hear much these days.
Good work.
Nicely done
**
"of nearly everyone's need for
forgetting and forgiveness."
***
A quiet homage to ur-nature. Timeless, beautifully understated, pitch perfect. Sent tingles...
"looping back toward us at the speed of prayer
where it helps keep pace with dreams
that can eventually outdistance even
those forms of darkness at the center
of nearly everyone's need for
forgetting and forgiveness. "
Love this poem, every line really.
*
"which is hope or at least something like it"
Fragile and realistic. The ending neatly nails the natural observations into place.
Much thanx, folks, for the reads & comments.
"streams out into the infinite universe/which is hope or at least something like it"
Love this, and the poem as a whole; the closing lines are wonderful.