Monday Morning: I want to be the world, freshly washed.

Inside the body of the world
there lives a vine
that awakens
in footprints and rootprints,

that touches our suffering

that heals the broken earth

that intertwines our pulses

until our breaths carry a new seed

within them.

While we sleep rain saturates the land
and in the morning
a luminescence
tunnels through fog.

I want to be the world, freshly washed.

~ Karissa Knox Sorrell, from “Luminescence,” Gravel Magazine


Notes: Poem – Memory’s Landscape. Photo: wsj.com, May 17, 2018, Rodrigo Garrido

It’s been a long day

It is dusk. The birds sweep low to the lake and then dive
up. The wind picks a few leaves off the ground
and turns them into wheels that roll
a little way and then collapse. There’s nothing like branches
planted against the sky to remind you
of the feel of your feet on the earth, the way your hands
sometimes touch each other. All those memories,
you wouldn’t want them over again, there’s no point.
What’s next, you ask yourself.
You ask it ten thousand times.

~ Roo Borson, “Ten Thousand” from  Night Walk: Selected Poems


Notes:

 

It’s been a long day


Notes:

  • A mahout bathes his elephant in the river Yamuna in New Delhi, India, on Tuesday. (Adnan Abidi, Reuters, wsj.com, February, 7, 2018)
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