Tenneson Woolf Poetry • Tenneson Woolf

November 7, 2024November 7, 2024

Voice of the Moon — An Anthology

Voice of the Moon, Katie Norris, Still Speaks, Moon Poetry, Slivered, Full

Katie Norris compiled and edited an anthology of poems, Voice of the Moon. I was glad to have one of mine selected, and to read poems from others also selected.

I wrote this poem after a walk where I live in Utah. The moon was big, having just crested over the Wasatch Mountains. I was appreciating and celebrating the invitation to stillness.

Give Katie’s collection a look. Here’s my poem below.

Still Speaks

Full.
Or portioned.

Light lifted from vast dark.
Or dark that nests focal light.

There is magnetic attraction.
To things whole, to things slivered.

I listen to the moon.
With slowness, and softness.

To the things whole and slivered within me.
To what is full, or portioned.

The moon still speaks.
And speaks still.

October 30, 2024October 30, 2024

Toward Pheasant Brook — A Poem To Settle

I wrote this poem four years ago, during the early shutdown of Covid. It was context then for an environment of nerves and feeling startled. I read it again today, by chance, looking for something else on my website. And thought, ah, yes, some good remembering that applies today too.

Enjoy.

Toward Pheasant Brook

I walked this morning.
Down Lakeview toward Pheasant Brook Park.

The sky was mostly blue.
The sun shined.
Dogs barked.

I did in fact see a Ring Necked Pheasant as I walk to the park.
It nervously scrambled from bushes,
startled by my passing.

That bird was impressive,
full color against the brown of yet un-budded spring.

I needed that walk today.
To feel an unquarantined world.
To see majestic mountain.
To say and receive sun-warmed “Good morning”
with passers-by, also out walking.

We are all a little nervous these days,
wondering about safety for ourselves, our loved ones,
and the postponed world around us.

We are all a little startled
and jarred by hyperbole that has become reality.

This time will pass.
There is budding yet to happen.
Open fields will grow vegetables.
Dogs will lick our hands, tails wagging.

There is much impressive beauty
among us,
and ahead of us.

October 29, 2024October 29, 2024

I Write Poems To Understand

To tease out some knowing, sometimes the very subtle. To find simple words, sometimes about complex things and beyond what is often much noise. To embrace clarity that lives only at the core.

Some of that this morning. With a little nod to Meg, who guides in warrior ways.

Whether it be a next phase,
or more of the current phase,
it is important to enter,
or stay,
in kindness,
to center in kindness.

Kindness is a warrior practice,
a warrior way.

Whether the narrative be what must surely evolve,
or more of what surely mustn’t change,
it is important to flow,
or persist,
in well-being,
to affirm well-being

Well-being is a warrior practice,
a warrior way.

October 8, 2024October 8, 2024

Facilitator Prep Poetry

It’s Day One, with this University Leadership Cohort about to arrive. My colleagues Chris, Caitlin and I get to guide three days of program. Circle. Cafe. Open Space. Pro-Action Cafe. Chaos & Order, Four-Fold Path, The Work. And a bunch of things that live in between.

On a morning like this, sun not yet risen, tucking in a few last details, before heading to the venue,I find I often want to remember values that guide me in the work. Values that anchor and animate clarity of purpose and opportunity.

I often put these into my private journal. Here’s sharing some of that for today, in a bit of prosed form.

So much to learn.
So much to encounter.
Listen for the needed truth of the day,
the story of our jobs,
and
the bigger story of humans claiming who we get to be together.

Pay attention
to the flow
of just the right things
arriving at just the right time.

Do good.

Day One. Here we go.