{pf invites poetry peeps to a susurrus of words}

Shhh. Listen to the crunch of leaves underfoot. Listen to the susurrus of leaves dancing with the wind. Hear the shrieking cries of… is that a jay? or some other kind of corvid? It’s cool in here – and despite the fact that dragonfly was the size of a small VW – it’s safe. Here is a place where a person can think. Look up at trees taller than you’ll ever be, and breathe… deep.

Welcome to Poetry Friday, which today is hosted at Karen’s Got A Blog! Today we’re pretending we’re in a deep, cool wood, and not in sunny downtown suburbia. Our woods are closed just now, but I’m imagining them because I have enjoyed discovering what lies beneath their cool branches. Muir Woods, which are the woods closest to my house, is wonderful. I’ve never felt unwelcome there, or awkward, or that I was not in the right space. I’ve been left alone to enjoy it, to give side-eye to the HUGE banana slugs and to wonder if it was the same ground squirrel following me for a half mile (probably not. Maybe?). I was left to myself to be ungainly, awkward, sticky, out of breath, and deep into brush. Unfortunately, not every green space is safe and welcoming to everyone, as has been adequately and dispiritingly displayed in weeks past. It’s an odd thing, that some places seem to belong inherently to some people, and not others…

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But, today this imaginary wood belongs to everyone, and as you were invited to join our poetry-ing this month, you know the prompt was using the imagery of thick woods and the word “susurrus.” Was that word helpful to you? It wasn’t to me, even though it’s one of my favorites (AND I MADE UP THE PROMPT), but after a lot of revision, I decided to go with what I had – these poetry exercises are meant to encourage us to write, not perfect us as writers.

And, so we carry on.

If you want to hear a “murmur or whisper” – or something about trees – from more from our Poetry Peeps, check out Sara’s post, and Laura’s here. Cousin Mary Lee’s post is here. Liz’s post is here. Don’t miss Tricia post. New poetry peeps include Michelle, and Janice. (As we’re tagged, we’ll point out other folks’ poems along the way – and thanks for joining in, folks!) Remember to visit the blog of Karen Eastlund for more Poetry Friday fun.


stopping by the woods on a summer evening

Up narrow tracks hemmed in with trees
Far from suburban greens
A wilder place is beckoning
Towards places clandestine.

A hushed and restless murmuring –
Mere susurrus of sound –
An invitation from within
To become lost – and Found.

Space here reserved for breathing in
Amidst the buds and leaves,
Expands the soul, Lightens the heart,
And never fails to ease.

Come one and all, to fragrant woods,
Or wander by the sea.
We share these spaces to rejoice
In Earth’s tranquility

Come all – and come courageously.
Take up this space. This prize
To all belongs; the Earth is shared
Your welcome recognize.


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I hope you find a green place that welcomes you. It might not be possible right now, but the joy of green spaces is that they remain, as my friend Elle reminded me recently, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, it all goes on, as long as the Earth remains. Never mind what’s going on with us; the woods will be there.

Want to join us again?

14 Replies to “{pf invites poetry peeps to a susurrus of words}”

  1. Oooh, “susurrus” as a prompt. I love that, and love what you did with it. This stanza

    A hushed and restless murmuring –
    Mere susurrus of sound –
    An invitation from within
    To become lost – and Found.

    makes me feel enclosed in the lushness, green woods. I would love to visit Muir Woods someday. (And you.) 🙂

  2. Tanita, Michelle Kogan asked if I could leave her comment for her. :>) Laura

    —————————————-

    I think I see Puck off in the distant woods, his joyful dance is creating quite a susurrus of sounds… Thanks for inviting us into your enchanting woodland poem Tanita, I don’t think I want to leave–or maybe I’ll lose myself there… I visited Muir woods a long time ago, but not for a long enough time–but ah those trees if they aren’t humbling. I’ve lived in Chicago most of my life and perhaps that’s why I have a love for nature, you have to find it, respect it, and cherish it even when it’s growing between city sidewalk cracks. Thanks also for your challenge!

    I tried for a very long time to log into your blog to post a comment and was unsuccessful.

    Michelle Kogan

    1. @Michelle: I’m sorry the blog was being annoying! WordPress occasionally does its own thing (just ask Laura) but I had a huge issue with spam, so new posters sometimes have to be approved – but you did make it eventually! Thank you for coming by and commenting! I’m hopeful we’ll all get to visit Muir Woods and travel throughout our country again someday.

  3. I think I see Puck off in the distant woods, his joyful dance is creating quite a susurrus of sounds… Thanks for inviting us into your enchanting woodland poem Tanita, I don’t think I want to leave–or maybe I’ll lose myself there… I visited Muir woods a long time ago, but not for a long enough time–but ah those trees if they aren’t humbling. I’ve lived in Chicago most of my life and perhaps that’s why I have a love for nature, you have to find it, respect it, and cherish it even when it’s growing between city sidewalk cracks. Thanks also for your challenge!

  4. Come all – and come courageously.
    Take up this space. This prize
    To all belongs; the Earth is shared

    So much love for this. I miss woods, as it’s a bit more of a trek to get to them from where we live now. (I just mean a short drive, but it feels like they are farther away, now that we live in the city.)

    “I’ve never felt unwelcome there, or awkward, or that I was not in the right space.” Isn’t that the gift of nature–until some human animals screw up the whole situation?

    1. @laurasalas: While I admit that Minnesota is kind of a scary place to me, I hope someday to trade with you – I’ll plop down at that awesome lake where you got the neat rocks, and I’ll lend you my Muir Woods to enjoy. Someday, when travel is possible again…

  5. Your welcome recognize. Those words ring so true for me. We had a swath of woods in my backyard. I spent hours there, so the forest always feels like home to me. My privilege makes it hard for me to imagine others feeling unwelcome in the woods, yet I know it must be true.

    My favorite lines are:
    An invitation from within
    To become lost – and Found.

    Thank you for the prompt that I begrudgingly came to love. And for this amazing poem.

    1. @MissRumphius: Once one is IN the woods, all is well – but meeting others on the trail and having that feeling of literal gatekeepers is daunting – when “Where are you from?” is more of a challenge than a friendly conversation… But, the trees welcome everyone.

  6. I grew up with woods to play in behind my house….not as spectacular as Muir Woods—these were East Tennessee suburb woods—but still, I felt as if that space belonged to KIDS and not adults, and it was heavenly to explore and play in there, to construct pretend houses and collect old bottles and to be just the tiniest bit on edge because you were “in the wild.” Your poem is an invitation for all to feel that way, and I love it for that, and more.

    1. @saralewisholmes: The East Coast was kind of gobsmacking, the first time my plane landed in DC, I was astounded at the fact that it was just… woods. On the freeway dividers, around the edges of roads. So much green! I later realized (after that awful week at ALA in 2010) that it was because the East was a swamp, with water and heat and sun alllllll the time, so obviously everything grew like mad. The West has vastly different kinds of woods, oaks, evergreens, and not things with kudzu gluing them together. But, still, I was deeply impressed by how it was all right there, so close, and so available. Imagining that from a child’s-eye point of view — you must have felt like you were all the richest people anywhere to have all that to yourselves.

      1. Cousin Tanita, I had this same experience as a high schooler in a 6 week Lion’s Club exchange to Germany. The overwhelming greenness and the claustrophobia-inducing growiness just about undid the girl from the arid high plains! Living in Ohio, I’ve learned to love trees and am near manic about identifying them all — so many new friends! Your poem perfectly captures the accepting and egalitarian spirit of the woods and of nature.

        1. @Cousin MaryLee: Man, Germany is on my list – I’d love to spend more time there than just a few days, and really take it in – especially after looking at your pictures and seeing how much it reminded me of the Netherlands! Here’s hoping we can travel again to all of our lovely woods soon.

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