like this morning, when the wild geese came squawking,
flapping their rusty hinges, and something about their trek
across the sky made me think about my life, the places
of brokenness, the places of sorrow, the places where grief
has strung me out to dry. And then the geese come calling,
the leader falling back when tired, another taking her place.
Hope is borne on wings. Look at the trees. They turn to gold
for a brief while, then lose it all each November.
Through the cold months, they stand, take the worst
weather has to offer. And still, they put out shy green leaves
come April, come May. The geese glide over the cornfields,
land on the pond with its sedges and reeds.
You do not have to be wise. Even a goose knows how to find
shelter, where the corn still lies in the stubble and dried stalks.
All we do is pass through here, the best way we can.
They stitch up the sky, and it is whole again.
Barbara Crooker
(from Radiance)
3 comments:
Thank you for the beautiful words and image. Good day wishes being sent to you over the miles.
Words placing life along side of nature.
A place of shelter, that is what I am looking for.
Great share, great picture!
Thanks so much!
"the leader falling back when tired, another taking her place"
So beautiful...
Reminds me of something I read long ago and took very much to heart.. "and when I cannot breathe,then you will breathe for me". I have felt this is true of women's circles.. from one on one all the way to the type like this where we are a circle linked by the internet. I believe in this process, I trust it, I live it.
Here's to that connection!
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