We can grow simply by listening.
the way the tree on that ridge
listens its branches to the sky,
the way blood listens its flow
to the site of wound,
the way you listen when
my head so full of grief
can’t look you in the eyes.
We can listen our way
Out of howling, the way a heart
can soften the wolf
we keep inside, we can last
by listening deeply, the way roots
listen for the next inch of earth,
the way an old turtle listens all
he hears into the pattern of his shell.