The Wild Geese

Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer’s end. In time’s maze
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed’s marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.

“Wild Geese,” by Wendell Berry from Collected Poems 1957-1982 (North Point Press).

Opening poem chosen and read by Nancy L.

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Today my intention was to open, to receive what I needed to see. I walked toward the pond, onto a slightly worn trail in the brush. I found myself surrounded by fallen branches, tops of trees upside down, spartina suspended like thatch along the water’s edge. All this, the aftermath of October’s hurricane. I stood a while, noticing. In one mound of marsh grass, I saw sprigs of green coming up through narrow openings in the debris. Aftermath can also be received as pre-birth!

I walked on and smelled fresh pine, cedar, distinct and potent. As if experiencing these trees from the inside out! Trees split open in the storm, no longer in the form they were, now able to reveal their core. Their brokenness amplifying essence, giving it room.

As I neared the end of my walk, I returned to a grove of cedars, their numerous branches sprawling, some using the ground as support. I sat on one of the branches and bounced gently, looking up through the canopy to see what these beings were reaching toward or lifting their arms to hold. For a few moments I, too, felt grounded and suspended, held and freed. I prayed that I may always find this space within me from which to reach.

Photo and reflection by Amy W.

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Today, even as I continue to struggle with my fear and anxiety about the future of our nation and our world, I focused on Wendell Berry’s words: “What we [I] need is here.” I first walked to the beach where the contrails and clouds held me in awe! Intersecting contrails and fluffy clouds danced against the bright blue sky, above the spectacular sand and sea — “what I need is here”…

I then wandered down the path in the woods and came upon one of my favorite tree stands. A cluster of trees bending, twisting, breaking, intersecting, rooting … all the while reaching for the light. It made me smile and reminded me that “all things belong”… the light, the dark, the crooked, the graceful… Yes, what I need is here! 

Photos and reflection by Nancy L.