From a Meadow
past stone outcroppings
covered in moss, on a carpet
of age-old needles.
Who would speak above a whisper,
when The Land whispers
in a voice heard by poets?
Cazadero, that expansive house
of nature. Each meadow or glade
a room. The air of redwood
and fir a cathedral of contemplation.
Who could pass through here
and not become a poet?
This is my response to Poetics: Make some room, from Laura at dVerse Poets Pub, with the prompt to “conjure a room in the literal, functional, metaphorical, imaginary and/or fantastical sense.”
The poem is derived from one of my earliest poems here, at WordPress, Cazadero Whisper. Margaret Fabrizio has been the sole steward of The Cazadero Nature and Art Conservancy in Sonoma County since she acquired those 40 acres in 1986, retaining the natural setting while introducing art installations throughout the forest and meadows of The Land. My other Cazadero poems can be found here.