Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser
Who says, “it is just?”
Oh, Lord. It has been me.
Is the dervish just whirling?
White skirts entrancing white roses
and also the white sun.
Is the witch hazel just blooming?
Golden, spidery blossoms,
and in Autumn for goodness sake!
Is the chestnut-sided warbler just here
and then gone? No! Think of it thundering
those tiny wings across the Americas.
Twice a year.
You can’t do it. Not once. Nor can I.
Words can lead us to grace, and they can
call us away from the inherent sacred. “Don’t look.
Something might change you.”
I must stop.
This life is dedicated to Earth-praise,
to loving this unordinary world.
Words are my activism.
And, they are not just words.
© 2014-2017/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
Published by Talking Waters Press
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