by Glenn Currier
There you are through the seasons
in your humble green
not seeking attention or glory
even in spring your little magenta flowers
peak out from your branches too modest
to make a loud fuss.
The scent of your body
to the place of your birth,
the plains of heaven.
May I take your simple doctrine
of acceptance and humility
to heart and rest silently
unconcerned with appearance
happy to let a soft inner light
be the meek gospel of the universe.
Author's Note: Author’s Note: This morning I was reflecting on the way the divine is manifested (and mostly ignored) all around me in the most humble things of creation. Then I noticed the sage bush in our back yard, planted and growing a little way off from the corner of the sidewalk. I remember smudging (burning a small bunch of sage) as a meditative spiritual practice decades ago. I can almost smell the unique aroma of the smoke rising to my nostrils and on to the heavens. Even the memory gives me a momentary wonderful peace.
Posted on 12/07/2019
Copyright © 2023 Glenn Currier
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/07/19 at 06:55 PM|
Sage infuses us, doesn't it! Lovely poem, Glenn, serene and inspirational. Sage brush welcomes me home to central Oregon every time I pass through that area. Welcomes me whenever I rub fingers over leaves here in Idaho. Your poem triggers many memories. Thank you.
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/07/19 at 07:29 PM|
Sage...also supposedly effective in cleansing a home of negative energy...as does your poem. Worthy literary/spiritual buildup to that last closing stanza. Good to read you again, Glenn.
|Posted by Brian Francis on 12/10/19 at 07:02 PM|
Very Nice. And like the smoke of the sage plant this poem cleanses and offers a wonderful message to be like the sage. Sturdy and honest. Thanks for this one. !!