We can grow by simply listening,
the way the tree on
that ridge listens its branches
to the sky,
the way blood listens its flow to the site of a wound,
the way you listen like a basin when my head so full of grief can’t look you in the eye.
We can listen our way out of anger, if we let the heart
soften the wolf we keep inside.
We can last by listening deeply, the way roots reach for
the next inch of earth, the way an old turtle listens all he hears into the pattern of his shell.
This poem is copyrighted by the poet and is included in the Healing Circles Global poetry wiki because it provides insight, nourishment, and inspiration to the hosts and participants of healing circles. We request that hosts and participants honor the poet’s copyright by not printing or sharing it in any other way. In fact, please support the poet’s work by purchasing the book in which this poem was originally published: Reduced to Joy by Mark Nepo.