believe that the world you so desperately want can be summoned, at least in part, by you.

Get lost enough and any
place is your place.

∆ Mark Cunningham, from “Black Bamboo,” Dusie (no. 5)

“When I speak of poetry I am not thinking of it as a genre. Poetry is an awareness of the world, a particular way of relating to reality.” — Andrei Tarkovski, from “Sculpting in Time”

To hear the rhythm of your indigenous song, to fall in step with the poetry of your unfolding, first there must be a clearing away: a temenos of simplicity in which to dwell.

Strike a holy grove of silence where you can listen as you long to be heard, see as you long to be seen, recognize where you are relevant, needed and necessary in the Family of Things.

It’s impossible to be lonely
when you’re zesting an orange.
Scrape the soft rind once
and the whole room
fills with fruit.
Look around: you have
more than enough.
Always have.
You just didn’t notice
until now.

∆ Amy Schmidt “ABUNDANCE,” in memory of Mary Oliver from Poets Respond, January 20, 2019