Recollect whispers in tree tops
What was thought as just wind
Is the flowering of His seed
Risen up from dirt
Through roots and trunk
To shine as tender green gems
That capture His breath
To blow Mercy back on us:
Yes, a life that began so small
Now feels vast.
A life that must know death
First must live.
So recollect the whispers in trees
And know it to be not just wind
But the actualization of living
In these moments before death.
Written after reading Rilke’s ‘I find you, Lord, in all things and in all’ as translated by Stephen Mitchell, published by Vintage International, NYC in 1982.
I hear Your voice and begin to dream As once when the dreamer was me. I wake, though, on earth in its mire Feelings’ muddied wings not able to rise Out of their nest as if chrysalis Crisped the skin to a hardened shell That would not crack to expose magnificence. These wings will be bright blue and green Like the sea mating the sky in silence. A prayer surging up from the soul Sings to God’s whispers in the tree tops. And I try once again, flexing the flesh That clings to the bones of feathers That will carry me up to join His chorus.
Written after reading Rilke’s ‘I am, O Anxious One. Don’t you hear my voice’ as translated by Stephen Mitchell, published by Vintage International, NYC in 1982. Take a look at this beautiful musical rendition of the poem: