Listen
— Sadie Bailey —
It’s not that trees, seals, and beaches
can’t speak.
It’s more that we,
no longer attuned,
can’t hear what they say.
They try to get our attention;
a root reaches out
to trip us awake,
a sleek whiskered head
with round eyes
gazes into our own,
crosscurrents ebb and flow,
tides bring
offerings of starfish, nudibranchs.
We don’t need to name things
to hear their pleas
to what,
in us,
is still animal.
It’s not hard to remember how
to lie down,
skin to sand, silent and still,
catch their signals,
all the treasures they lay
before our senses, saying,
Yes. Here. Now.
[Editor’s Note: This poem was erroneously attributed to Carla Stanley, when the actual poet is Sadie Bailey. Embarrassed apologies to both poets. – Lin]
Carla:
Right on, girl.
Write on!
LOVE this one!
Carla:
YOu have named our current state of disconnect. Surounded by riches, the daily gifts, we can feed our souls by attending as you describe. Thank you for naming the ways.
Carla: yes, yes, our “advanced brains” have caused us to lose this basic living things communication. Is it atrophy, or could we regain it by, as you say, “lie down, skin to sand”.
Shall we try?
This is a Great Poem — in all senses– bravo Sadie!
Hi, Sadie. Wonderful!