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letra de becoming a redwood - lori laitman

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stand in a field long enough, and the sounds
start up again. the crickets, the invisible
toad who claims that change is possible

and all the other life too small to name
first one, then another, until innumerable
they merge into the single voice of a summer hill

yes, it’s hard to stand still, hour after hour
fixed as a fencepost, hearing the steers
snort in the dark pasture, smelling the manure

and paralyzed by the mystery of how a stone
can bear to be a stone, the pain
the grass endures breaking through the earth’s crust

unimaginable the redwoods on the far hill
rooted for centuries, the living wood grown tall
and thickened with a hundred thousand days of light

the old windmill creaks in perfect time
to the wind shaking the miles of pasture grass
and the last farmhouse light goes off

something moves nearby. coyotes hunt
these hills and packs of feral dogs
but standing here at night accepts all that

you are your own pale shadow in the quarter moon
moving more slowly than the crippled stars
part of the moonlight as the moonlight falls

part of the grass that answers the wind
part of the midnight’s watchfulness that knows
there is no silence but when danger comes

- lori laitman

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