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| Godwits Leaving Christchurch for Alaska |
The quiet guide
A young Godwit
does not ask the wind for direction.
It rises
following an inner compass
woven into its bones
You too carry such a guide.
You feel truth
You hear it
quiet as a feather
showing you where to place
your next step
through the maze of living
without forcing
the track to bend
Let the storm come
Let the sun return.
Each is an elder
with its own teaching.
Let your breath soften
the stony path.
Shift your weight.
Remember
you owe nothing
to the road beneath you
Too often humans ignore their inner compass.
ReplyDeleteSeria bom se toodos nós humanos dessem atenção à bússula interna! Todos a temos! Ela "fala" alto e sinaliza caminhos!
ReplyDeleteLinda tua poesia, Marja!
beijos, ótimo dia,chica
...finding a quiet spot these days can be difficult.
ReplyDeleteBird migration is a wonder. Lovely poem too.
ReplyDeleteThe young godwit heeft een lange reis voor de boeg. Ik ben ieder voorjaar blij wanneer de kieviten terug zijn. Hun roep en gebuitel in de lucht, ze raken iets in me. Mensen zouden beter naar hun intuïtie moeten luisteren maar ik durf er te weinig op te vertrouwen.
ReplyDeleteIn ieder gedicht dat je schrijft, lees ik liefde. Liefde voor de natuur, de mens, het leven zelf...
Je hebt een prachtig talent.
Moral compass drives our 6th sense or is it 7th
ReplyDeleteThere’s something very calming in this perspective, focusing on quiet guidance instead of constant noise. It’s a gentle and thoughtful way to look at everyday life 🙂
ReplyDelete