so the seed
just
once I wish to see
a gardner
sashaying soft soil
toe tops to trowel
sprinkling as if
glitter or runway amidst
the wintered over weeds
imperceptible dew
rhythmic wind
burrowed blessings
becoming we waltzed
the sidewalk rippled by root
and year
above us in boughs
ten finches stitched
tree to tree
among us
synching our steps to
what music
D and I watched My Neighbor Totoro last weekend and it was a delight. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the idea of dancing to celebrate/bless a harvest or a planting (SPRING!). Imagine just walking by a some house on some street and seeing a ceremonial salute to life in someone’s front yard — joy! The scene captured in the gif above melded nicely with these thoughts … then the poem fell out.
The other day we were on a walk in the neighborhood and a group of small birds followed us for a quarter mile. Flitting from tree to tree, setting our pace.
Currently reading Trust by Hernan Diaz which complicates the idea of what a novel is, Sand Talk by Tyson Yunkaporta and an essay collection called The Night Sky by Ann Lauterbach. Lots about form and movement in these books.
This conversation between Richard Powers and David Naimon pushed my thinking this week.
Thanks for reading.