Lost
By David Wagoner
Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushed beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
You must treat is as a powerful stranger
Must ask permission to know it and to be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches the same to Wren.
If what a tree or bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost.Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
i feel a little lost lately. some of you will probably shrug at that and say, well you are in a brand new city... but it's more than that. i feel like i am forgetting pieces of me, and being in a different city only intensifies the feeling of being lost because my surroundings no longer help me to recall what i have forgotten. it's like i am recreating myself, but not sure what the pieces are, or how the fit together, or if they belong/are needed anymore.
like this poem, i am Here. i am in a strange place that was created for me, and yet i feel overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of it all. i am overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of myself. it says that i must stand still... that i must ask for permission to be known and to know... does this included being known by self? does letting it find me mean that in the process i am Found?
You must treat is as a powerful stranger
Must ask permission to know it and to be known...
Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
