I came across this poem today while looking for poems to use at juvenile hall next week. I was searching for several "identity" types of poems to cut up and let the students rebuild. So often the hardest thing to do is to just stay still, be quiet, be who you are so the world can find you.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Learn more about this poet here.
This week’s round-up of all the Poetry Friday posts can be found here, with thanks to Anastaia Suen