The Wednesday Morning Post
As I am living "amid junipers," and feeling "at home," I thought this poem I wrote harkening back to one by William Stafford, was appropriate for today!
“Through the Junipers,” by William Stafford
rewritten in the style of Gerard Manley Hopkins.
In shadow slanted sun fall,
I wander amid junipers tall,
Scattered, scale-foliaged green,
On low-laid hills, wind whipped lean.
Roll round yawning vales.
Flow full firmament veils.
Seal the vision’s fall.
Encompass me round, glory-made sentinel.
To destine forth, yet a further range.
No sight, no sound civilized reigns.
I sit to gaze on endless flight,
Over willowy waves of hilly height.
In later days, when spoken thoughts disperse,
And in soft silence we converse,
Seeking to inquire, troubling to truth,
My answers fall to fields of youth.
Fine fold those days,
In memory, the sun swept hillside lays,
A temple grace never pondered upon,
Even in sultry solstice’s dawn.
And part of my living, part of my birth,
Wanders amid junipers in search of a hearth.