Phyllis Cole-Dai wrote this wonderful poem that offers so much advice about how to live life more fully. When I stand still and just am in the moment, it is there that I can live most fully. Poems grow there and, just like finding something wonderful in nature, we can bow to it as we read it and let it soak in.
Stop whatever it is you’re doing.
Come down from the attic.
Grab a bucket or a basket and head for light.
That’s where the best poems grow, and in the dappled dark.
Go slow. Watch out for thorns and bears.
When you find a good bush, bow to it, or take off your shoes.
Then pluck. This poem. That poem. Any poem.
It should come off the stem easy, just a little tickle.
No need to sniff first, judge the color, test the firmness.
You’ll only know it’s ripe if you taste.
So put a poem upon your lips. Chew its pulp.
Let its juice spill over your tongue.
Let your reading of it teach you
what sort of creature you are
and the nature of the ground you walk upon.
Bring your whole life out loud to this one poem.
Eating one poem can save you, if you’re hungry enough.
When birds and deer beat you to your favorite patch,
smile at their familiar appetite, and ramble on.
Somewhere another crop waits for harvest.
And if your eye should ever light upon a cluster of poems
hanging on a single stem, cup your hand around them
and pull, without greed or clinging.
Some will slip off in your palm.
None will go to waste.
Take those you adore poem-picking when you can,
even to the wild and hidden places.
Reach into brambles for their sake,
stain your skin some shade of red or blue,
mash words against your teeth, for love.
And always leave some poems within easy reach
for the next picker, in kinship with the unknown.
If you ever carry away more than you need,
go on home to your kitchen, and make good jam.
No need to rush, the poems will keep.
Some will even taste better with age,
a rich batch of preserves.
Store up jars and jars of jam. Plenty for friends.
Plenty for the long, howling winter. Plenty for strangers.
Plenty for all the bread in this broken world.
ivonprefontaine
Teacher as Transformer 
I love when a post makes me reflect and consider. Thank you for that today.
Reblogged this on scampertotellthestory and commented:
I have always loved poems and poetry but have begun to take on new appreciation one at a time
Thank you Yvon. BTW: I am, here now: https://talesfromtheloublog.wordpress.com/
Thank you for updating me Lou.
Nice to see you again Yvon. Hope this new year is peaceful and full of contentment.
Lovely and fun.
Delightful poem! ~ヾ(＾∇＾)
Oh yes, I bow to this wonderful poem, and also to you, for posting your wise words.
I can relate. Beautiful poems to grow from the stillness.
wonderful
Truly luscious. Mmmmmm. Thank you for introducing me to this gorgeous work.
You are welcome.
This is fantastic!
I like the idea of picking a poem or two to each each day. It helps the writing process, too. Thanks Ivon. Hope you are doing well in all your busy activities. 🙂
I am, thank you.Poetry is something I turn towards.
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
POEMS ARE INDEED…SO YUMMY! ❤
I love this poem!
It is a lovely metaphor for whiling over poetry.