Poems can be a doorway into another world. Each one, a simple arrangement of otherwise ordinary words, that together evoke presence, wonder, possibility. So here is an invitation to pause, let the words wash over you and glimpse the world they offer you…
It’s a growing collection, and we’d love to hear which ones resonate with you and why, and find out about your favourites. Here is an index of our Words of Wonder.
You know so very well the edge of darkness you have always carried with you. And you know too well by now the body’s hesitation at the invitation to undo everything others seemed to want to make you learn. But your edge of darkness has always made its own definition secretly as an edge of…
She speaks slowly with a voice like moss, soft, deep and damp. If you’re not listening carefully you might just miss it, rising out from the earth like vapour, gently tugging at your ankles. “Rest” she says, “Deeper. Rest as deep as I am. You are moving too fast. Become soil, become the slow-growing tree.…
Giving thanks for abundance is sweeter than the abundance itself: Should one who is absorbed with the Generous One be distracted by the gift? Thankfulness is the soul of beneficence; abundance is but the husk, for thankfulness brings you to the place where the Beloved lives. Abundance yields heedlessness; thankfulness brings alertness: hunt for bounty…
I will not regret love. I will not regret hope. I will not regret that I still love the trees and the wind song. That even through grief I have found the world generous. That even through ruin I have found solace in the blackbirds call. by Nikita Gill A strong, almost defiant poem…
Light cannot see inside things. That is what the dark is for: Minding the interior, Nurturing the draw of growth Through places where death In its own way turns into life. In the glare of neon times, Let our eyes not be worn By surfaces that shine With hunger made attractive. When we look into…
It’s not just the people who live in the city who’ve lost the thread that ties them to the woven world of stones and earth, fields alive with pollen and wings. Who among us understands how oceans rise and fall, currents swirling around the planet with messages in bottles floating on the water. When the…
You and I have spoken all these words, but as for the way we have to go, words are no preparation. There is no getting ready, other than grace…. Inside each of us, there’s continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water. A crow sits in the blackened limbs and talks…
Wonder, Who has the magic to make the sun appear every morning? Who makes that bird on the elegant tree chirp? Breath, pulse, music, dew, sunset, the burning ambers of the fall. There is unfathomable joy in all that. Life is a stream. It flows on its own. No one knows why we are…
It’s like the scent of rain after a month of drought, the way it rises up and fills the lungs, quiets the body and gentles the mind – that’s what it’s like when, after grasping and spinning and reaching and clenching at last, exhausted with my own fear, I lay my hand on my own…