by Laura Parker Roerden
Last night
the stars
made our
hayfield
into a bed.
Twinkling
and turning
from light
to dark,
and back
again
to
light
in the dark
tangle
of knotted
weeds
and swords
of grass,
sometimes in
synchrony,
but often
as chaos.
The perfect
flat disk
of a full moon
spilled
shadow
everywhere,
but
still
was
not enough
light
for
this
moment,
this
time.
The stars
took
pity and
in their
infinite
wisdom
soaked
the land
with seeking
pulses,
lights
reaching
out to find
others
with which
to join
—as bee
finds flower;
light singing
as land
no doubt
remembering
once
upon a time
of freedom,
but bearing
scars
too long
unacknowledged.
Something
beckoned me
closer
to listen
as I’ve
now
and again
have
noticed
truth
reveals itself
most
deeply
in the
most
disquieting
of ways,
as when
up
becomes
down.
Each
pull of discomfort
is a sundial
pointed
true north
telling
us
the time,
to heal,
is now long
past midnight.
Laura Parker Roerden is the founding director of Ocean Matters and the former managing editor of Educators for Social Responsibility and New Designs for Youth Development. She serves on the board of Earth, Ltd. and is a member of the Pleiades Network of Women in Sustainability. She lives on her fifth generation family farm in MA.