When you see the land naked, look again
(burn your maps, that is not what I mean),
I mean the moment when it seems most plain
Is the moment when you must begin again
-Gwendolyn MacEwen
Pregnant, round, anticipating water
breaking, she knits, and the first
Supple leaves of lettuce push through
Damp earthen smell of worms
adventuring on the sidewalk,
their domiciles quite flooded by the rain
Pale shoots wriggle upward
In a dance to the windmusic
Of the biosphere, then
When you see the land naked, look again
Unabashed, absorbing, drinking
Listen to the corn leaves creaking
And the singing crickets on the wind
Everything exploding, bursting
Stretching, breathing. Malodorous
dandelions lie in prides, preen
And wait and metamorphose
Fly away on white umbrellas
Returning to places where they've never been
Burn your maps that is not what I mean
Passion, bursting, wild and keening
Sighing and sore in the drowsy dawn
Children falter on the step
Glancing over their shoulders
Dry now, the grass crinkles, lame
and dusty, waking in a cold sweat bent with grain
Orange rising woman smiles on crisp
apple scented air, tomatoes redden on the vine
and the harvest came
I mean the moment when it seems most plain
Sleep, beloved, sleep
Droplets crystallize and drift
Winds whirl but harm not
They pound the panes in mock frustration
While within meiosis moves
Knitting beginnings from colourful ends
Double helix patterns on circular needles
Warm in the frigid darkness
When she decides it is time to cast them off, then
Is the moment when you must begin again.
