Gathering Sunbeams – September 2014

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 21: Gathering Sunbeams
Poem broadsheet includes Nancy Wood’s photograph of Taos Mountain, NM, circa 1985.

 

Gathering Sunbeams, from Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

The way to gather sunbeams is carefully, making sure

they do not break or become

mere shadows of your uncertainty.

 

The way to gather sunbeams is hopefully, bending

to catch the light between your fingers

before storm clouds devour opportunity.

 

The way to gather sunbeams is crazily, putting

them in your pocket if you catch any,

laughing at their feeling of mobility.

 

The way to gather sunbeams is joyfully, keeping

step with the dance they do across the earth,

drawing you into their world of fragility.

 

Migration – August 2014

 

Migration, from Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

Going from this place to another place

requires surrender of your old ways,

the honoring of sacred wisdom and not

anticipation of the journey only. The soul’s

Migration between the old place and the new means

that you must recognize your path

to an unknown destination, risking all

with the chance of gaining nothing. You are merely

The connection between growth and suffocation,

the link that joins possibility to pain,

and thus you become the keeper of your own flame.

Going from this place to another place is like

the bird in winter who remembers

the beauty of her springtime nest

just to keep herself from freezing.

 

I am a woman – July 2014

 

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 6: I am a woman
Poem broadsheet includes a Nancy Wood photograph of Violet Smith, coal mine owner, Hesperus, CO, circa 1978.

 

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

I am a woman.
I hold up half of the sky.
I am a woman.
I nourish half of the earth.
I am a woman.
The rainbow touches my shoulders.
The universe encircles my eyes.

What can I tell you of life? – April 2014

 

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 8: What can I tell you of life?
Poem broadsheet includes Nancy Wood photograph of fiddlemaker Ben Gillaspie, Dinosaur, CO, circa 1978.

 

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

What can I tell you of life?
It comes hard-earned and beautiful.
It comes disguised and tricked.
It comes with laughter too.
What can I tell you of life?
Nothing.
My version of it is my own.
It does not belong to you.
Like trees, we have our common roots.
But our growth is very different.

My help is in the mountain – March 2014

Nancy Wood poem poster 2: My help is in the mountain

 

FromĀ Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood

 

My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me.
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one
give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.