June 19, 2021

Naming & Knowing

There is an ancient and wondrous tradition,

tracing back to Adam,

of naming the things of this world —

and in so doing, acknowledging

the love from whom all descend.

The German poet, Rilke, found

the face of God in the rough-hewn

familiarity of apple-bark.

Mary Oliver heard her name called

by the wild geese aloft.

Wendell Berry harvested the holy

from every seed he sowed.

I am made sensible by gratitude,

taking little for granted —

from the hair on my head to the

rain overflowing our gutters.

How else can I know and claim

Love and Beauty, Hope and Mercy,

if I do not name the simple graces

as I find them? 

Like the perched cardinal pair

solicitously feeding seed

to one another as the sky,

which both guards and beholds

the animate and inanimate,

descends from the west, 

bruised purple and lowing thunder.