All as it was in this place timeless – January 2016

From Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood

 

All as it was in this place timeless.

All as it was between the human soul and the earth

For there is no difference between

The life of a man and the life

Of all growing things.

Who is to say if a man

Shall not be a tree instead?

We pray to all of nature and do it no harm.

These are our brothers

All men and all animals and all trees.

Some part of ourselves

Is in earth and sky and everywhere.

It shall continue

As long as nature follows its own purpose.

It shall continue

As long as we know what we are doing here.

 

My horse took me down the life-giving road – October 2015

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 7: My horse took me down the life-giving road

 

From Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood

 

My horse took me down the life-giving road

Drawing his breath as he went

His breath of strong spirit

His breath of power to plow and to pull.

But now he is old

And his breath is of feathers and corn.

I add to his breath

The breath of my own

And pray to his old age of riches.

 

What I am I must become – May 2015

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 13: What I am I must become

 

What I Am I Must Become, from Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood

 

What I am I must become.

What I see I must try to find.

What I hear I must play music to.

What I touch I must leave alone

And turn then to all reflections of myself

In trees and sacred things

That nature gives to me.

When trouble comes to me – November 2014

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 16: When Trouble Comes to Me

 

 

From Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood

 

When trouble comes to me

I have to go and dance.

I dance until the dust receives my trouble.

The dust takes my trouble to the mountain.

The mountain grows with the dust of trouble.

The place for my trouble to be.

My help is in the mountain – March 2014

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

 

From 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.