Friday, August 23, 2019

My Inner Inukshuk

Towards the rising sun, I turn 
my morning face, ever hopeful.
Vision obscured, I peer through cloudy glass,
towards the brighter sky.
Beyond the meadow, I can see 
the ghostly shapes of ancient horses,
shape-shifting among the trees.

The shaman sits on a fencepost,
smiling, wise and kind,
with an owl perched on his shoulder.
He will not point the way,
for I must find it for myself.
But he gives me a blessing
for the journey,
as the road is steep,
and he knows there will be storms.

To the south lies treasure, precious stone,
inukshuks to point the way
for lonely travelers.
Their arms point west, always west,
where my spirit flies, up over the mountains,
along the familiar highway
that leads me forever home.
A row of prisms cast rainbows, for beauty,
refract the light, for brightness
and clear-seeing.

Towards sunset lies the illumined path,
following footsteps I trod before,
called ever forward 
by the unceasing song of the sea,
siren, lover, clarion call,
to fly my spirit home.
I heft my kit bag full of memories,
tuck in a soupcon of wonder,
and a song to merry me along,
towards my nest at the edge of the world.

North is an inner compass, a knowing that,
whatever direction I am headed, 
however long or short the journey,
I am my own
True North. 

This poem arrived in 2015, when I lived at the farm. It was created thanks to an exercise by Elizabeth, to turn in all the directions, make notes on what I saw and turn it into a poem. Thanks, Elizabeth!

Sharing it with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United this Sunday.


  1. Lovely, positive poem – and of course wonderful to know that since writing this you did indeed reconnect with your true spirit home.

  2. I like the idea of being one's own true north. We have to use our own inner compass to center ourselves, I think. We cannot depend on others to do this for us. Wise words.

  3. I love how much this poem can see, how much it values the self, how it sings of strength and connection with what fills us and feeds us.

  4. This reads like a real fable - wonderful poem

  5. He will not point the way,
    for I must find it for myself... I love that.. messages from all directions.

  6. It is wonderful to find a place to be that tells you you are home. Like you I feel good to feel the sea close to hand!

  7. to find the song in your heart, and to follow it. yes, this is such a lovely poem.

  8. This discovery of a path chimes with so many other tales/stories that I have read that I can feel truth vibrating through it. Lovely.

  9. This is such a spirit adventure. I love the line about truth north.

  10. I love the idea of having a nest at the edge of the world - perhaps the only possible true home for one who has discovered their true north is within. Lovely poem.

  11. I love that you have found your way back... to find the direction is so important.

  12. The poet trusts herself to be her own True North--truly an amazing accomplishment! May we all be so fortunate!

  13. We are our own true north...I love that you have been westward however, to your beloved ocean. Precious jewels are nothing compared to the treasures of birds and trees, wolves and foxes. I am so glad you found your way home.

  14. i loved your poem, Sherry. how you express it was done so well. innovative. thanks.

  15. positivity indeed - Towards the rising sun, I turn
    my morning face

  16. It is wonderful, the way you responded to Elizabeth's exercise. Your inner compass has shown you the way to your true home and now there you are - wild and happy.
    I love this poem.

  17. You've painted a beautiful visual and transcendent scene here, with your words, Sherry. I love the shaman sitting on the fencepost 'smiling, wise and kind' … such a wonderful image of the gracious peacefulness that is there to be found in a moment - if we are wise enough to give ourselves over to it.

    I agree Elizabeth's 'poem birthing' prompts are simply awesome. I know that I have benefitted by using them.

  18. Pleased that you found your true home.
    Your powm is a soupcon of wonder.

  19. A wonderful look around Sherry My mind went to the annual migration of the birds, especially the large ones. It could be your 'shaman' who points them. I'm thinking Whooping amd Sandhill cranes especially, direction, South in the Fall and North in the early Spring. Similarly Ducks and the many smaller fowls. We welcome them here as we do the Snowbirds, who are folk from the Midwest and farther North I think even up into Canada, who spend their Winters here

  20. I absolutely love the positivity in this poem, Sherry 💖 especially; "called ever forward by the unceasing song of the sea,
    siren, lover, clarion call,to fly my spirit home."😊

  21. Beautiful... lovely sentiments... west, forever west... it seems we're all headed west in some way or another.


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