ISBN 978-1-926710-01-3
Art: John Noesthedan
TREES TAKE ACCOUNT OF THE AIR
after St. Peter's Abbey
Walking early morning across the monastery yard
air breathing breeze
ruffling dark poplar trees already
I've walked our country road,
eaten eggs coddled for breakfast,
found a monk who's found a tape recorder,
my new song waiting to be sung,
"Light works as an annointing material,
works its way, works its way into my body..."
the day barely begun but alive I hear
leaves almost name
the feeling on my face they are trying
to say: listen, you are happy. This rustle I take to mean
content.
Trees do not let you down, oh their leaves bend, and
daily they shake out their grief, but
only the rarest tornado can fell one, pruned well they withstand
even
this;
trees I think of as answers, love
in solitary monastery air
Like the poems of Emily Dickinson, who haunts this collection, Campbell writes in an epistolary style that belies the depth of thinking that is engaged. The poems vibrate between human breath and earthly spirit. Nothing is insignificant.
Kristjana Gunners