THE ART OF NATURE
By Patty Wren Smith
Her hands cup the poppy blossom –
then open. Everyday she does this somewhere -
filling the world with fleeting things,
mountains, stars and summer rains.
In the dark edge, she sees the luminous.
Out of discarded flesh and gold-
she fashions new works and
gives to each its own fruit
and its own hidden stone.
No one tells this artist, “you can’t do that”—
besides, it’s too late,
her forms are flying from tree to tree,
some, the tiny ones, are munching on leaves -
others are leaping through the mist
on hoofs that sound like thunder.
Can we learn from such brave exuberance
how to be still amid the storms, how to take heart,
how to create in this world
a life that is truly ours?
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