slip off your shoes invite moss to curl between your toes let your toes curl around a twig pick it up in a one-leg wobble call the wobble a dance bow with a flourish to an audience of squirrels then stoop to hear why the acorns are heckling let it take you to the ground press your cheek to brown earth feel its breath warm on your face its secrets hot in your ear when you rise without rush walk a line of tree shadow until the sun takes a bite from your trunk when that light so alive carves you let your jaw drop the world wants to feel you biting back
I was researching snowblowers today, and got a kick out of somebody on a forum saying, in response to another poster's suggestion that they just buy a plow for their long driveway: "I embrace the suck." I can very much relate with that, so much so that I wrote a poem to help others get there, too.
I absolutely love this Rebekah. You have again found a poem where very few would, and in the ordinariness of life. you shine again You take the daily and fashion it into a piece of art that scarcely resembles the beginning. On a task to look for snowblowers, you somehow find the creative wonder to create a poem like no other. I don't quite know how you do it, but I am so very grateful that you do!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Mark! Thank you. For all my love of the outdoors, I'm staring out my window at the cold and gray, putting off walking my dog in favor of replying to Substack comments! So I feel you about these cold winter days.
Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. Have to watch out for stinging nettle and poison ivy and all kinds of things out there.
I pick wild raspberries for jam, and a couple years ago I ventured out too far into nature without sufficiently protective clothing. I came back with horrible welts under my clothes from bites I do not understand to this day. Took weeks to heal.
I have been working with a blind kindred the past two weeks, and as someone who has always listened well, I am finding new ways deeper than I had ever known.
Listen…
^
A society of noise and chatter,
distant thunder and land mine outrage.
A fusillade of words, poison and toxic,
Tsunami of venom and verbal violence.
Trichly he voice is valued even when
we are all talking at the same time.
^
So I am learning to listen,
an invitation to you to listen with me.
To the words and
the spaces between the words;
to the beauty of breath,
the surprise of a smile,
the sacredness of tears.
^
Listening with hearts and spirits,
eyes and senses that allow the ears
to be the entry into relationship.
Listening as if every word is the first,
listening as if nothing else mattered;
Just this place, this person, this moment.
Listening to the rhythm of the soul,
expressed in a rainbow symphony of longing.
And when there are no more words,
listening to the silence,
that deep space where wisdom and wonder reside,
where the gifts of generations lie waiting to be opened,
and the holiness of earth is discovered once again.
^
Listening in that silence, early morning first light,
"Allow the ears to be the entry into relationship" - what beautiful words! And then "when there are no more words, listening to the silence." This speaks straight to my soul. Thank you, Larry!
I was researching snowblowers today, and got a kick out of somebody on a forum saying, in response to another poster's suggestion that they just buy a plow for their long driveway: "I embrace the suck." I can very much relate with that, so much so that I wrote a poem to help others get there, too.
.
How to Embrace the Suck
.
Mishear them when they say temple;
Your body is a tractor. Make it
sweat, make it strain, rev it up
to its full one horsepower just to
see that you can. Ask what it can
do for you, then suggest a little more.
Prefer it over all other machines,
the way Honda people talk on Reddit.
It is the most durable, the most
user-friendly, the easiest to steer and
store, it’ll run 50 years with minimal
fuss, and it is implausibly also
the cheapest thing on the market.
.
Love the endorphins it feeds you
when you work it. Prefer endorphins
over all other neurotransmitters;
secretly look down on the masses
who succumb to adrenaline’s
flashier packaging. Abhor, or at least
mistrust, tech. If there is a button
you can push to make the job easier,
don't.
.
Put off buying a snowblower for
as long as possible -- ideally for a full
snowblower lifespan so you can
tell yourself you saved two thousand dollars
(more if it’s a Honda). Shovel your
ridiculously long driveway by hand
and do self-congratulatory math
revealing the size of the swimming pool
you could fill each winter (semi-Olympic).
Include that fact in a poem to impress
those who are still reading. Leave out
the other column, the one for debits
to your corporeal account. It is year 50,
and the deferred maintenance
is piled as high as the berms
you've built, making every toss
a little harder than the last.
"The way Honda people talk on Reddit" 😂 This poem had so many laugh out loud moments and then landed in such a raw, reflective place.
I absolutely love this Rebekah. You have again found a poem where very few would, and in the ordinariness of life. you shine again You take the daily and fashion it into a piece of art that scarcely resembles the beginning. On a task to look for snowblowers, you somehow find the creative wonder to create a poem like no other. I don't quite know how you do it, but I am so very grateful that you do!
I really enjoyed that was such a fun poem to read
Thank you so much, Kathleen! 💜
You’re welcome
Stunningly good. And I loved hearing you read it. xxx
Thank you so much, Nelly! 🥰
Such wild, woolly fun, Lisa, crazy flippy rhythm. thanks
Your adjectives are making me smile! Thank you, Weston!
Splendid summons of a forest, precisely read.
😊
Thanks, needed that on a cold winter day-
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Mark! Thank you. For all my love of the outdoors, I'm staring out my window at the cold and gray, putting off walking my dog in favor of replying to Substack comments! So I feel you about these cold winter days.
Elegant and heartfelt. Well done!
Thank you so much, Leila! I really appreciate that.
I'll post it later Lisa. Thanks for the fun prompt!
Don't Rue the Wild Carrots: How REALLY to Enter a Forest
David Angel
Tell someone where you're goin'
Stick to groomed trails when it's snowin'
Have an ER plan
So you don't die out there, my man
Long pants and longer shirt
A compass and a map
Pants tucked in thermal socks
Don't trip on roots; watch where you walk
Make sure your Deet is strong enough
Bring matches and a bowie knife
Know your trail; know your skills
Tell your kids or tell your wife
Where you're going, when you left
When you think you're comin' back
If everything goes well
and your hike is not from Hell
Good hiking boots, waterproof
Bear spray's good in northern woods
A machete and a first aid kit
Charge your phone more than a bit
Don't touch plants that have three leaves
Know wild grapes from poison Moon Seed
Hemlock and Queen Anne
lace their boots the same, my man!
Don't ever eat the mushrooms unless you're with a mycophagist
Unless you want to die a horrible death
Choking on red vomitus
Have water in your knapsack
A Milky Way to get you through
If your a careless berry picker
Mother Nature shrugs and snickers
Copyright ©️ 2025, David Angel, All Rights Reserved
Hat tip Lisa Jenson's "How to Enter a Forest"
Oh my God, this is marvelous. All of it sage advice, and it made me laugh to boot!
Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. Have to watch out for stinging nettle and poison ivy and all kinds of things out there.
I pick wild raspberries for jam, and a couple years ago I ventured out too far into nature without sufficiently protective clothing. I came back with horrible welts under my clothes from bites I do not understand to this day. Took weeks to heal.
Oh that sounds miserable!! Could it have been chigger bites. They are awful.
Yeah! That was the consensus
LIsa, when that book of poetry is published, please include an audio book with it!
I'm up for that if someone actually wants it! (And you are someone.)
Yes, and I will be sure to gather other someones.
🧡🧡🧡
I have been working with a blind kindred the past two weeks, and as someone who has always listened well, I am finding new ways deeper than I had ever known.
Listen…
^
A society of noise and chatter,
distant thunder and land mine outrage.
A fusillade of words, poison and toxic,
Tsunami of venom and verbal violence.
Trichly he voice is valued even when
we are all talking at the same time.
^
So I am learning to listen,
an invitation to you to listen with me.
To the words and
the spaces between the words;
to the beauty of breath,
the surprise of a smile,
the sacredness of tears.
^
Listening with hearts and spirits,
eyes and senses that allow the ears
to be the entry into relationship.
Listening as if every word is the first,
listening as if nothing else mattered;
Just this place, this person, this moment.
Listening to the rhythm of the soul,
expressed in a rainbow symphony of longing.
And when there are no more words,
listening to the silence,
that deep space where wisdom and wonder reside,
where the gifts of generations lie waiting to be opened,
and the holiness of earth is discovered once again.
^
Listening in that silence, early morning first light,
when the only sound is the beating of a heart
finding love’s rhythm for the very first time.
"Allow the ears to be the entry into relationship" - what beautiful words! And then "when there are no more words, listening to the silence." This speaks straight to my soul. Thank you, Larry!
Thank you Lisa! If there are lines that work in here, you help inspire them!