Walking through a hayfield in south Saskatchewan, and sage
fills my head, and bromegrass and timothy—leaning toward autumn—
have turned rust-brown. And the toadflax and nodding thistle
laud the ground they’re on, and use the breeze to hum,
and chokecherries praise the meadow,
and paint my mouth a fervent purple,
then shock it dry. And the field says,
do not sigh for something else,
dwell in this world as it is.
In Saskatoon we meet, at long last, our great-granddaughter, Elise.
We sit in the backyard. Sun shines through the cottonwood
and spreads over her tiny bonnet. Her little hands pull up bits of grass
and find her mouth, and she smiles, so wide, adding light to light,
and the ceaseless wheels of a troubled world come to rest.
And the cottonwood says,
do not look for something else,
dwell in the world as it is.
Driving west now, along fields of ripe barley,
through the inglorious histories of the Battlefords,
and further on, a horizon of pump-jacks and ordinary industrial blight.
At sundown we stop and stealth-camp in Kitscoty, which is not Kyoto
and the slough at the edge of town is not the shining waters of Biwa,
but even here, deep calls to deep; the marsh wren is a benediction;
and Everywhere is inscribed by the indelible chorus of a loon.
And the horizon says,
do not clamor for a future Kyoto,
dwell in your world as it is.
Red Deer morning. I look across the flowered backyard into the alley
to where my father-in-law left this life. On the mantle there’s a picture:
his beamish smile and a rose in his lapel. Yesterday. Rundle Park.
A dragonfly lands on my shirt, very near my heart, it clings there
while I go about setting the picnic table with pizzas and fizzy water.
The kids of nieces and nephews spare no energy on the jungle gym,
spread their delight and passion through the park.
And I am caught by the untellable love of “a living flash of light,” *
all my possessions and yearnings unclasp,
and I am released,
free and alive,
into this needful world.
* from The Dragonfly, by Alfred Lord Tennyson
There is so much to ponder here, that I will read this repeatedly. But what joy in that adorable little bundle, Elise.
Thank you so much, Diane. Yes, joy indeed.
do not look for something else,
dwell in the world as it is.
Beautiful
Thank for this Ananda!
What a beautiful reminder, Stephen. To be in the present, in nature, ‘to dwell in the world as it is’. You’ve made my morning again. Thank-you for this.
I will read it again and share it, with your permission, with a few cohorts who shared an autumn offering in a ‘Way of Council’. With gratitude, Kirk
That means a lot to me Kirk. Thank you!
Lovely, and another lesson in something we know but need to be told again and again. And I am wondering who is that little adorable face? No wonder you are smiling.
Thank you, Sally. And of course that adorable face is our great-granddaughter, referred to in the poem.
Stephen, I recently came home from a week on Iona and back home again, I am trying not to “sigh for something else but dwell in the world as it is.” I came back to drought and all manner of national unrest, and the silence of Iona pulled and invited me to that somewhere else. I know better, though, and your words, naming both the temptation and the recognition that everywhere is holy, help. Thank you.
Hi Ann, and thanks for this. I’m completely with you. I pray your week in Iona helped prepare you, once again, to enter into the reality of our world.
As a resident of Saskatoon, I was delighted to see my place mentioned in a poem. I recognized the purple and the dry of the chokecherries, the smell of sage, the names of places along a highway we travel often. Funny how we take such pleasure in seeing the familiar in poetry, even as we know that poetry is meant to take us to a new place and help us to see with new eyes. Yet when we see with new eyes (you invite us to do that so often), the most familiar of places does become new. Thank you.
Such a wonderful response. Thank you, Edna.
congratulations on that beautiful little girl!!
Every new life invites us also to live in the world as it is becoming!
Thanks Sam!
Such beauty and truth. Thank you for sharing these words.
Thanks so much Dan!
Love the photo… ggparents!
“Dwell in your world as it is” – yes! Appreciate the reminder.
Thanks, Erika!
Love the photo… ggparents!
“Dwell in your world as it is” – yes! Appreciate the reminder.