Return

On Friday I read a David Whyte poem called "Return," in which he describes a nature scene, then says he heard an ancient word, causing him joy and grief. (The word was "Ireland.")

I already knew I'd be heading out to walk in nature this weekend, and decided I would listen for a word as well. Today I visited Six Mile Slough in the early morning hours.  Here is my poem, based on David's structure.

The day started with egrets roosting in trees across the lake
Great Blue Herons flying overhead, calling
The cypress tree needles in shades of golden brown
reflecting in the black water of the slough.

I walked, musing, energized, happy,
Feeling wholly part of this place,
The trees, the ferns, the warblers flitting about.

And I breathed deeper
than I have in a while,
the trees whispering the word I needed to hear:

Community.
What I owe it; what it gives me.