In the Shade of the Black Walnut
In the Shade of the Black Walnut
Steven Searcy
That which must heal you
also may harm you.
Renewal only comes
from surrender to a hand
that is powerful
and unpredictable
and good
and unsafe.
You must sit in an open field,
far enough from any shelter
that you may be overtaken
when lightning strikes.
To taste a fresh egg
you must expose yourself to snakes.
To exist alone
is to be barely alive.
In order to be full of life
you must teem with the life
of all the worldβs beings.
You must share the grass
in bare feet, with the dogs
and ants and things
too small to be seen.
Every arachnid must be
your neighbor for that glorious hour
on the hilltop in the shade
of the black walnut tree.
Learn to let the ants share
your skin. Let your skin become
part of the hill, as it once was.
Let your heart become a landing strip
for any winged thing that might fly near.
Your skin is always
harboring something,
or is it disappearing.
So set it free,
to be handled by hands
that you do not understand.
Steven Searcy
Poet & Engineer
Steven lives with his wife and three sons in Atlanta, GA, where he earns a living working as an engineer in fiber optic telecommunications. He is a graduate of Vanderbilt University and Georgia Institute of Technology.
Photography by Branimir Balogovic