Share a poem or two for National Poetry Month! | NAAEE
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Share a poem or two for National Poetry Month!

April is National Poetry Month in the US, and poetry can so often be spiritual and so connected to the earth. Sarah, Helen, and I would love to invite you all to share poetry that connects you more to each other, EE, the earth, etc. You can write your own or share poems that have a spiritual meaning to you. We hope everyone will contribute at least one poem (if not a couple) over the course of the month.

To kick us off, I want to re-share Aimee Nezhukumatathil's beautiful piece, "The Tree — A Poem for the Future of NAAEE," which was released during the NAAEE 2021 Annual Conference.

Excited to be inspired and moved by the poems we share this month!

So much of Mary Oliver's poetry is connected to the landscape and is spiritual for so many. Recently On Being played an interview with her that is so so good.

“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, / the world offers itself to your imagination, / calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — / over and over announcing your place / in the family of things.” - Mary Oliver

Want to call out John Phillip Newell. A great celtic who weaves spirituality and environment. If you have not read his books there are many gems there. His lens is often ones of blessings and gratitude. Here is what he posted for May

Prayer for a Month of Blessings
"May [this month]
be a month of blessings:
blessings of goodness,
blessings of joy,
peace and kindness,
friendship and love,
creativity, strength,
serenity,
fulfilling work
and dignity,
satisfaction, success,
and sustenance,
physical health
and radiance.
May truth and justice
guide our acts,
and compassion
temper our lives
that we may blossom
as we age
and become
our sweetest selves.
May it be so."
— Marcia Falk in A Book of Blessings

I absolutely love Mary Oliver and her lovely way with words.

"When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

Mary Oliver