Posted in Uncategorized, tagged faith, kindness, morels, poem, poetry on May 13, 2017| 2 Comments »
Where yesterday
there were no morels
today there are—
dozens of them,
small blond bouquets
in the grass.
I think about kindnesses.
How sometimes
they arrive
out of what seems
an absence.
How in that absence
it seems impossible
to believe that kindness
will ever return.
How delicious
the morels were tonight
in the cream,
so earthy, so rich,
so generous.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged morels, poem, poetry, searching on May 3, 2015| 2 Comments »
Mom, he says,
it’s been raining and sunny,
and do you think the morels
are up yet? We go walking in the field
where we’ve found them before,
but they are not there.
How many times do I walk
in my mind to the places
I’ve found some sense of purpose
or conviction, only to find them empty?
Finn finds a rabbit’s foot in the field,
the leg bone still attached.
It’s lucky, Mom, he says.
We leave it where it is
and let the luck follow us if it will.
And perhaps it does. Today,
everywhere I turn in my mind
I fail to find the answers I want.
But what shows up is a softness,
a fertile field in the unknown where I can rest.
It feels rainy and sunny at the same time.
I can almost feel something deep
inside pushing its way up to the surface
ready to be found in its own time.