30
Jul

To be yourself is to be - July 2017

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 12: To be yourself is to be

 

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

To be yourself is to be

Alone with the wind crying

When all that you ask for is

The warmth of a human fire.

30
Aug

All of my life is a dance - August 2016

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

All of my life is a dance.
When I was young and feeling the earth
My steps were quick and easy.
The beat of the earth was so loud
That my drum was silent beside it.
All of my life rolled out from my feet
Like my land which had no end as far as I could see.
The rhythm of my life was pure and free.
As I grew older my feet kept dancing so hard
That I wore a spot in the earth
At the same time I made a hole in the sky.
I danced to the sun and the rain
And the moon lifted me up
So that I could dance to the stars.
My head touched the clouds sometimes
And my feet danced deep in the earth
So that I became the music I danced to everywhere.
It was the music of life.
Now my steps are slow and hard
And my body fails my spirit.
Yet my dance is still within me and
My song is the air I breathe.
My song insists that I keep dancing forever.
My song insists that I keep rhythm
With all of the earth and the sky.
My song insists that I will never die.

20
Jun

Today is a very good day to die - June 2016

 

Nancy Wood poem poster 5: Today is a very good day to die

 

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

Today is a very good day to die.

Every living thing is in harmony with me.

Every voice sings a chorus within me.

All beauty has come to rest in my eyes.

All bad thoughts have departed from me.

Today is a very good day to die.

My land is peaceful around me.

My fields have been turned for the last time.

My house is filled with laughter.

My children have come home.

Yes, today is a very good day to die.

28
Feb

Old Man Winter - February 2016

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

Old Man Winter blew in on a cloud from the north

And lay down on the mountaintops

Covering them with snow.

His fingers reached down to the valleys below

Stealing the leaves from the trees.

His hands closed around the water

Gripping it with ice.

His breath roared out from his lips

Stopping all streams at their source.

The feet of Old Man Winter walked upon the earth

Freezing all the grass.

When he was through

Old Man Winter curled up and went to sleep

Drawing into himself

All beasts

All land

All men.

 

1
Jan

Reaching back from here - January 2015

 

This seems a good poem for the end of one year and the start of the next.

 

Reaching Back from Here, from Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

Reaching back from here

All that I remember of my life

Are the great round rocks and not

The unimportant stones.

I know that I experienced pain and yet

The scars have healed so that

I am like the tree covering itself

With new growth every year.

I know that I walked in sadness and yet

All that I remember now

Is the soothing autumn light.

I know that there was much to make my life unhappy

If I had stopped to notice how

The world sings a broken song.

But I preferred to dwell within

A universe of fields and streams

Which echoed the wholeness of my song.

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