Poetry is a natural form of writing for me. For 10 years I wrote a new Wild Thought every Wednesday. They’ve shifted to monthly poems now, but every time I write one, I better remember who I am.
Thanksgiving greetings to all of you from The Wild Institute. As I considered posting the annual Thanksgiving Wild Thought, I found myself pausing, not quite able to just post it as we enter into our 2nd Thanksgiving with Covid19 still so prevalently in our midst. My wish for you, whether you…
The maples steal my breath with glowing leaves the colors of fire. Likewise the birch golden against deep blue sky. Walk among them now on a crisp sunny day. Inhale the shades of red, yellow, and orange until, in your exhale, you could almost breathe fire from the glory of…
“Hope is the thing with feathers,” so says Emily Dickinson. “When despair for the world grows in me I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and I come into the peace of wild things.” Borrowed, of course, from Wendell Berry. When…
Spring Polarities It’s the freeze at night, thaw by day cycle of early spring that gets the sap flowing. Freezing creates negative pressure that condenses cells in the tree. Thawing causes positive pressure, which expands those cells. The sugary sap of the maple thus flows up and down the tree….
Insurrection We humans are quite a mess these days. Ranging from blind rage to unsettled to terrified. Maybe we’re always like this, but right now we seem particularly public in our display. What are we to do with this onslaught of emotions? I ask myself that a lot these days….
Taking it in Early snow. So many leaves still in the midst of autumn. From radiant yellows to deep red, russet, and orange really, the leaves were just getting started. Then, big wet flakes drifted down. All day long. Until seven inches blanketed the ground. Now brightly colored…
Lyrics to Cicada’s Song Dressed in rain gear to deflect burrs I plunge into the woods that border my yard. It’s an annual event trying to remove the burrs from the ground which is far easier than from the dog. Burrs might well take over the world so designed are…
May the warmth of the sun kiss your skin and nourish your body. May the rains wash clean that which is ready to let go, and wrap you in a garment of undying love.
What we need around these whispered fears is to breathe deeply
allow our tender hearts to open to compassion
for ourselves, our loved ones, and all beings near and far.
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