[Murmurs from the earth of this land] by Muriel Rukeyser

The theme that appears to be revealing its' self this month is a combination of nature and slowing down enough to listen to it. This makes sense as most of us are finally emerging from our winter caves and starting to look around again. Sounds of the world waking up from winter are everywhere. I know we’re all anxious for summer, but take a second to breathe (you non allergy sufferers anyway) and just listen. What do you hear?

[Murmurs from the earth of this land]
by Muriel Rukeyser

Murmurs from the earth of this land, from the caves and craters,

       from the bowl of darkness. Down watercourses of our

       dragon childhood, where we ran barefoot.

We stand as growing women and men. Murmurs come down

        where water has not run for sixty years.

Murmurs from the tulip tree and the catalpa, from the ax of

        the stars, from the house on fire, ringing of glass; from

        the abandoned iron-black mill.

Stars with voices crying like mountain lions over forgotten

        colors.

Blue directions and a horizon, milky around the cities where the

        murmurs are deep enough to penetrate deep rock.

Trapping the lightning-bird, trapping the red central roots.

You know the murmurs. They come from your own throat.

You are the bridges to the city and the blazing food-plant green;

The sun of plants speaks in your voice, and the infinite shells of

        accretions

A beach of dream before the smoking mirror.

You are close to that surf, and the leaves heated by noon, and

        the star-ax, the miner’s glitter walls. The crests of the sea

Are the same strength you wake with, the darkness is the eyes

        of children forming for a blaze of sight and soon, soon,

Everywhere, you own silence, who drink from the crater, the

        nebula, one another, the changes of the soul.



Found at: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/241696