There is a poem
in our Gratitude
in the Ancestry that is our Future
in the Presence
that fruits our past
and our passing
There is Gratitude in our
steps that find us standing still,
while our sitting down finds us
standing up
There is a poem
in the Honoring of our Grief
in the pain from which we are
no longer polarized
in our cradle that no longer
clutches for a calm,
in a torrent where we find tenderness
for tears so salty
they stream from the sea
In the Honoring of our Grief
we give as we receive
eyeing our way to the center of
the storm
and we do not hide
and we do not seek
the Stillness of this Movement
There is a poem
in our Seeing With New Eyes
where our Gaian vocabulary
loves composite words
Looktouchingsmellinghearingtasting
exists as a synesthetic prefix
to inhalexhale and a verb
for
Living
There is poem
in our infinite
dictionary
that breathes
a poetry of
symbiotic survival
There is poem
in our Going Forth
in our groundedness
that dances
in our soaring
that roots us
in our knitting that
re-weaves the web
There is a poem
in all of us
in our Work that
Reconnects.
~Bronwyn Preece
May 2010
*I dedicate this poem to Joanna Macy*
life of m 