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"Listen", by Barbara Crocker

One of those poems that invites me to appreciate Beauty, and be in the present moment.


I want to tell you something. This morning is bright

after all the steady rain, and every iris,

peony, rose, opens its mouth, rejoicing. I want to say,

wake up, open your eyes, there’s a snow-covered road

ahead, a field of blankness, a sheet of paper, an empty screen.

Even the smallest insects are singing, vibrating their entire bodies,

tiny violins of longing and desire. We were made for song.

I can’t tell you what prayer is, but I can take the breath

of the meadow into my mouth, and I can release it for the leaves’

green need. I want to tell you your life is a blue coal, a slice

of orange in the mouth, cut hay in the nostrils. The cardinals’

red song dances in your blood. Look, every month the moon

blossoms into a peony, then shrinks to a sliver of garlic.

And then it blooms again.

- Barbara Crocker

from Line Dance, Word Poetry; copyright © 2008

A rose. Belmont, California, April 2023

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