by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Her reach finds
in the forest canopy
until the carpet
at the bottom brings
every kind of plant and fern to formation.
These are true families
that enjoy each other’s company–
some living at the top of hills,
other kinds in depressions–
trees that are dependent
on plants around them,
plants that only live by certain trees.
Speak in whispers,
for there are babies sleeping
17 responses to “Reach”
I just love this. It leaves me breathless with wonder and such an appreciation of your poetic eye. This poem lets me know that you are well and fully inhabiting your new world. Love to you and Tom,
So good to hear from you Liz. Tom and I send our love. Take care. Love Ethel
Just lovely, Ethel. You have breathed your heart into this poem – your love and respect for the nature. It whispers and tip-toes. Beautiful. XO ♥
Thank you for this good thought. Love Ethel
Lovely, a moment in a Summer forest …
Thank you Ina. Love your Island. Love Ethel
This is breathtaking Ethel n a way only you can write; wonderful universe and mysterious too. I know so little.
Yes it is mysterious. Thank you. Love Ethel
This is a delight! And also of course a cautionary tale.
Thanks for reading this, John. Love Ethel
Once again a magical, yet totally real world. A reminder and prompt. Thank you.
Oh your comments! Love Ethel
This poem reminds me of a time I spent recently in the forest by the river. I sat so still and for a long time and during that time of sitting still all the babies came out. So, I came home and wrote a little quip about it:
If you sit still enough
and for a long time you
don’t make a sound,
the babies will come out!
And they did!!
Oh this is so nice Anna. Love Ethel
Words for the summer hikes in the Catalina’s — the rains a awakening new babies.
That is really nice. Love Ethel
Again, beautifully written, inspired by Gaia herself.
(And again, it makes me resonate. There was a special on PBS not long ago about trees and certain plants that form a symbiotic relationship with them – they need each other to survive. It inspired me – but not as deeply as your poem has.)