Poetry by David H. Rommereim
By David H. Rommereim
It was when I noticed
Maple White Oak and Pine
Mingle their scent
While sitting on my granite couch
Inhale became a melody
which spun their fragrance
into my ear
Through rhythm
And discordant tones
Half notes
Quarter notes
And the mingling
Of movements
From major to minor
Sharps to flats
They touched my tongue
With sounds
That tasted deep in the throat
Something new
Something unknown
That melded my body
With uncertainty
Then arms went limp
Over the lap
As the forest entered my eyes
Even while the bread was baking
In the granite oven
Spackled with clay
Each item lingered
As I felt my body
Come to a full stop
To became part of the weave
Their blending
Blurring
Blending
Blurring
The Mother Trees
Provide the gift of a curtain
With a gentle shiver
Comforting flora and fauna
Into a community
To allow me to enjoy
The mystery
Within the pulse
That becomes me
They removed
The wool over the eyes
As far as I could see
And the hard work of play
Its blessing
Began to massage my sight
Then I notice the molecules
I breathe
Smell taste and touch
Is the force
Of mitochondria
Partnering with the detail
Of surroundings
Even the grovel of darkness
And its death
Enjoys the breath of light
To mesmerize the mystery
Of each entity
Like the lichen
Sitting next to me
Smelling the bread
Afraid of my feet
Harming her neighborhood
Even she sparkles
As the curtain shivers
To unveil awe
While Ms Lichen continues
To steward the air
Long after my bread is gulped
So the curtain
The scent
Its music
touch
taste
And the fluttering of insight
Illumines the mystery
Of resurrection
While we increase by one
And enter the holy
- David H. Rommereim writes from the mountains of Whitefish, Montana relocating
after 3 ⅓ decades of serving as a Lutheran pastor and faith-based community
organizer in New York City. He is a biblical storyteller intrigued with the
repair of the biosphere, religion, and politics through listening. He is
deepened by the political spirituality engaged in our age of Eco-Apocalypse.