RUTH MOWRY
After the Storm
Like the bite of a crisp
battle between lovers
the branch is snapped
almost in two lengthwise,
still connected,
dangling the spray of seed pods out
beyond the weep line.
After Reading Frank O’Hara
The only way to be quiet
is to be quick, so I scare
you clumsily, or surprise
you with a stab.
Frank O’Hara, from 'Poetry'
I am weeding
the bed of mint –
spearmint peppermint
chocolate –
and feel
the quick stab
of stinging nettles
through garden gloves
the damn leaves
almost the same
and while I rub
the tender spot
you tell me
they are good
for pain
No kidding I think
But what you mean
is that their extract
relieves pain
in joints and such
and so I squat back
down in the delicious air
and let the pain
surprise my hands
with goodness
before
they actually feel it
Perennial
The first day that shines
like spring
I walk until I fear
I might get lost
then turn back
on a beeline to the big pine
where sounds of birds
drive from my head
our morning fight –
the same one
we always have
about nothing
important
then afterward
I rake the garden,
leaves black, sodden, trapped,
tines of the rake awkwardly
clawing more fence than leaves
blown to this border every autumn,
buried under every
snow after snow,
pressed until they hold so tight
to the ground
that when I scrape them free
the bare dirt releases gasps
of bright grass as if
for every birth a death
must begin the greatest joy
Ruth Mowry grew up in a Baptist preacher’s home and always wondered if there might not be a deeper spiritual calling than the religious teachings surrounding her. In the middle of her own family life with her husband and two children she returned to university to complete her undergraduate degree in English, and discovered poetry writing. This exploration coincided with departure from church, and it was through that separation and writing that the spiritual work began afresh, so maybe it is not surprising that writing has become her spiritual practice.
Today much of her writing launches from the rural Michigan setting where she lives with her husband, finding in nature a replenishing life source for the spiritual journey. Ruth’s poems have been published in a few print and online journals. She blogs at washed stones.
