to see what poets see

i want to see

what poets see

the ones who weep

at the sight of stars,

knowing they see

the hand of god

-stacy wills (7/30/2011)

the quill

i came upon a feather quill

dipped into a cedar inkwell

whose writing desk is this, i wondered

for surely only one hand can pen

the sacred text of nature

from which god reads aloud

-stacy wills (7/24/2011)

only this

i do not know what this is...

only that it is.

i do not know what this means...

only that it has meaning

and wanted to be made.

i do not know who this is for...

only that it belongs to someone

and when they see it

they will know...

what it is, and what it means.

-stacy wills (7/19/2011)

(re)learning loveliness

...for everything flowers from within of self-blessing; though

sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness...

-galway kinnell (b. 1927)

from his poem, saint francis and the sow

the waterfall

cut a new channel

through this heart

of mine, let me be

a young river and

you, the waterfall

-stacy wills (7/12/2011)

wilderness is a necessity

wilderness is a necessity...

-john muir (1838 - 1914)

blue jay way

blue jay comes to remind me

that we all have a place in this world,

a unique part that is ours alone to play.

a bold, bright bird with a fondness for acorns,

she carries and buries far more of them

for her winter cache than she will ever

be able to recall...and yet she persists.

now perched on the rim of the old birdbath,

with a knowing gleam in her coal-black eye,

she cocks her crested head at me, as if to say:

how many oaks have you planted today?

-stacy wills (7/4/2011)