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

for Elena

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.

-Malena Mörling

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?

Comments

[leah]

mmm, love it

[Sally]

Brings to mind a summer morning in Ireland -- 1993, maybe? -- no kids yet, wouldn't meet the husband for another few months. I took some time for my own tradition of wall-leaning, listening to the lowing of the occupants on the other side of the wall (which of us was in and which was out?), enjoying their calm faces and the chewing of the grass.