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6 Responses to “The Poetry of William Stafford”
Beatiful and stunning! Evocative of some of David Whyte’s work, even.
Especially poignant for me today, as I spotted a lovely little garter snake on my walk back from lunch.
I wonder what she thought of me, as I watched her weave through the dried leaves and undergrowth, her presence more a gift to me than I could ever be to her.
Beautiful!
A wondrous poem and poet. The wind is strong here tonight reminding me of the retreat on IONA so long ago. I have never felt wind so strong and so full of elemental magic as on IONA. It was dark, intense. I felt lost then at times, as now. The poem helps me see what feels lost at times, the magic inside the space of nature, within me. Sometimes, I get too tired to access it. Thanks for the poem. M
Oh, yes. I remember that feeling.
Perhaps some day again.
Looked into WS a little further, inspired by the beautiful poem that you posted. He’s a wonderful poet. Really like the following…
When I Met My Muse
I glanced at her and took my glasses
off–they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. “I am your own
way of looking at things,” she said. “When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation.” And I took her hand.
William Stafford
Wonderful! Thank you for giving me a new poet to explore. Oh, I know that ‘whisker feeling’ so well! 🙂
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