Walking In A Field In Leverett: Call And Response

You say look: there is a hawk and I sense

a  fierce winged seeking.  You see

a lady slipper and we pause

in recognition of what survives.

 

Eight swallows circumvent

almost brushing our faces 

you and I the ninth and the tenth 

a minyan - oh the prayers

we can now sing.

 

I tell you I feel lonely and you 

remind me to lean into the wind

as we like David’s harp become

the song singing herself. 

 

You say the land is poisoned. I remember

we can write seventy names

of Oneness, place them in water 

for the sake of cleansing.

 

We discover wild ramps, sweet and bitter,

recalling a teaching

that Holy sparks live in all

that is food -

we redeem joy

leaf and root.

 

You notice the shadows and I warn 

against too much light. You say

walk towards the water

mystery is calling. 

I take off my shoes - 

what else is there to do

but step in.

 

I discover a bramble of letters 

disguised as red berries of seasons

past.  We try  together

to balance on this spinning earth 

where nothing is ever really lost.

 

I say desert. You say wilderness 

that cannot be owned 

only lived.  I say revelation 

you say  forest.

 

You say cultivate and I remember 

teachings of the wild -

become seed,

surrender to the light.

 

I say silence as the earth

sings with apple blossom, 

chickadee, footfall of deer.

I say  kindness, you answer

belonging.