This poem was inspired by “Thirteen Ways to Love the Rain,” by Christine Valters Painter. Her poem was inspired by “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” by Wallace Stevens. (Carrying their example let’s me express my gratitude for those who light the creative path before me.) The words crept up on me as I meandered through the dripping green and full leafed forest on the Washington coast while on writing retreat with Christine.
I
Duck into sanctuary over mat of moss;
Squishing in, soaking
Down the weary that you carry
II
Soft step this way, then that
On curving aisle trail;
A visual call laid before you, “come” it says, “come”
III
Breathe with the ferns
Out then in, fan then furl
One rhythm, you and all
IV
Approach the altar stump
Dappled in light; bearing
Glistening sun-blessed fungi host
V
Circle around
Join the mandala of
Birth, growth, decay and death
VI
Offer prayer hands to
Celebrant trees outstretching
Lichen arms, wide, like welcome
VII
Kneel on brawny root
Reaching up eager to hold and hear;
Confess, be absolved
VIII
Receive deliberate droplets wet on hair
Directly from above;
The sacrament of birth and belonging
IX
Inhale deep, damp humus fog;
Let spirit rise and roll
Over, in and through you
X
At the branch arch
Bow, pray, abide;
In longing, that perpetual threshold
XI
Stand then, and stay
For heart to swirl it’s unseen ablution;
Making love absolute, pure
XII
Look around. Praise
The communion of creation;
Every loop, branch, leaf and needle
XIII
Finally. Recess
Rejoice, and return
Spirit-full, soul-full, source-full