Still cackling.
(An intro to BACA, in case you’re unfamiliar.)
Day: August 10, 2007
BACA, too: Yet Another Reason to ‘Read Roger’
Poetry Friday: The Forest for the Trees
LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
“Lost,” by by David Wagoner, from Collected Poems 1956-1976 (Indiana University Press)
Poetry Friday is a means of finding oneself. Take a look at where else you might end up at the Poetry Friday round-up, hosted by Big A, little a.
BACA: Because you wanted to know this!
You know what?
I am not going to say one snarky thing that I read on Big A, little a today. Nope. Not gonna even pull out basins and make convincing faces that look like impending barfdom. Nope. Not gonna do it.