A Group Commemorative Poem on the Occasion of CWC's Twentieth Anniversary

Authors: Beth Andrasak, Kathryn Cullen-DuPont, Carolyn Locke, Jennifer Puk,
Tracy Roberts, Yvonne Rutford, Tricia Shepherd, Sam Sherman, Lucy Turner, and Chrystal Wing
Editor: Lucy Turner
 
                                                                             If and Then
 
                                                      Goddard holds us and all else disappears.
                                                      Take us into your circle.
                                                      The land sings back to us:
                                                      Tiny stream murmuring,
                                                      Hermit thrush song cascading from above.
 
                                                      Curled day lily carries
                                                      The scent of distant parties.                                               
                                                      In the beginning there were circles--
                                                      What happened for you in the past year?
                                                      What do you hope for on your return?
                                                      Sometimes we are giddy like children                       
                                                      With scent of pine needles and fertilizer
                                                      In the sodden, tractor-stomped fields.
 
                                                      We begin by swishing our arms lightly
                                                      Through the air.
                                                      Chance meetings occur and revelations
                                                      Emerge,
                                                      Hot springs of heart blood.
                                                      I practiced and practiced, but
                                                     When the time came I could not breathe.
                                                     My head made of crumpled paper,
                                                     Ink blots for my eyes.
 
                                                     We hold on, then let go, trusting
                                                     Whatever veerful tangents
                                                     We might take.           
                                                     A big-eared dog traps our offered ball
                                                     Between deft paws,
                                                     Swats it neatly back to us across the floor.
                                                     Lichens fur a dry twig,
                                                     Heat builds under a skylight,
                                                     Trunks join at the roots.
                                                     (Root: source of nourishment; radical
                                                     Radical: examined and changed at the root)
 
                                                     We sing separately and together
                                                     Leave and return
                                                     Build and rebuild
                                                     What shelters and binds us over time.