I wrote this poem on a morning when I was still in bed. After I woke up, I took the book “If women rose rooted”, which was resting on the bedside. I immersed myself in the images and stories of the book, letting myself be carried in a deep sense of reverence. Just as I read a line from the book which spoke about “place-based cultures”, the bells of a nearby church began ringing. I felt a dissonance between the book and the bells ringing, and this brought a disturbance in my inner system. Words and sentences, of something that I could call poetry, kept flowing in my imagination.

These days I am deeply absorbed by a wonderful book: If Women Rose Rooted by Sharon Blackie (I strongly recommend it).

In this book, Sharon is sharing a little story, which is the overview of a book called “The Crossing” written by Cormac McCarthy. I was deeply touched and moved by the story and I feel like sharing it here, maybe it has some effects on you too and maybe cracking your heart a little bit. Here it is.