Saturday, January 30, 2021



Upon your lap, my Mother Earth,
I listen to the river's song,
of renewal and rebirth,
that calls me home where I belong.

Like a tree, my roots go down,
deeply where there is no sound,
only earthworms burrowing,
through hallowed ground.

Like a tree, when harsh winds blow,
that assault me, then grow still,
the fickle weather helps me grow,
changing me, as weather will.

Like a tree, my centre lies
where human folly is forsaken.
Your heartbeat says:
Endure. Just wait.
These earthlings one day
will awaken.

from 2014 - shared with earthweal's open link


  1. I am not holding my breath about earthlings awakening, but we can hope!

  2. Beautiful poem and so we wait for this awakening into the light.

  3. What a lovely way to spend an afternoon, Sherry, sitting on Mother Earth’s lap! A gentle poem that lifts my heart.

  4. The old Irish poets believed all the rivers had their source in sacred trees rising from the Otherworld. Thanks for showing the way home. - B

  5. I hope you are right Sherry. The sleep has gone on far too long.

  6. I love the metre here, especially:
    'only earthworms burrowing,
    through hallowed ground.'
    A magical communion with Mother Earth.

  7. Sherry,
    I love trees. As you may know, I live among the pines. There's strength in this poem and the softness of everything around the woodland.


Thank you so much for visiting. I appreciate it and will return your visit soon.