Everything Lush I Know

I do not know the names of things
but I have lived on figs and grapes
smell of dirt under moon
and moon under threat of rain
everything lush I know
an orchard becoming all orchards
flowers here and here
the earth I have left
every brief home-making
the lot of God blooming into vines
right now then and always

— Kimberly Burwick

As part of my new routine of reading and writing each morning, yesterday I read this poem from Horses in the Cathedral, by Kimberly Burwick, a writer living in Moscow, Idaho.

Despite its brevity, the poem is full, and well, lush. That first line is an immediate hook — I do not know the names of things — and the reverent details and tone transported me easily from the poem to my journal. Energized, I lifted a line — a lot of God blooming into vines — and started a freewrite.

This prompt produced pages of material. Later, I reread the poem and realized it was not a lot of God but the lot of God. But no matter, whatever unfurls the mind and moves the pen.

On this Thankful Thursday, I am thankful for poems that arrive and energize.

It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to appreciate the people, places, things (and poems) in our lives. Joy contracts and expands in proportion to our gratitude. What makes your world expand?