Poets let us stand on the earth among the cows
Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away. –Carl Sandburg
Standing on the Earth Among the Cows
When I was driving through Wyoming
past fields of just over-turned earth
black in the noon sun
and past thousands of cows
totally at home in the open,
I stopped the car to stop moving
and got out to stand among them
and I said nothing in English or Swedish.
Now I want to be whoever I was at that moment
when I discovered my own breathing
among the cows’ breathing in the field
and studied their satin bellies
and udders slowly filling with milk.
I was not separate from anything living, I was
equally there and there was nothing to wait for.
A wonderful friend (adj.: witty, soulful, beautiful, poetic—Webster’s Dictionary) sent this poem by Malena Mörling, a reminder of those rare times when we stop our cars to participate, to stand among the cows, to connect to everything living, to breathe in unison with the universe. Let's stop the car more often, shall we?