Tuesday, April 10, 2012


photo by PSC


Your name passes from poplar to pine. 
It may be weeks, months or even years,
since you were here, still it whispers in wind
and water, sings from within boulders,
stones and tiniest grains of sand

that one note, uniquely yours, known
to the universe – earth, moon, sun, sky –
each atom, every microbe knows it;
your moniker, existing before you were born,
biding after body is dust

not what you are called by family & friends,
but who you are, and will always be,
it is you and you are it, inseparable

a name never meant to be uttered,
incapable of being spoken in voices human,
unable to be written – except in the stars

never to be heard by ears or seen by eyes,
no word, but music, scent, taste, texture, temperature,
senses as yet unnamed, unknown, undiscovered

it whistles between white birch and willow,
musical – melody & harmony -- simple & complex,
elemental & intricate, an invisible,
celestial embrace that says,
“you are loved, welcome home”



  1. So much love in this, Pamela and so many amazing lines. Love that the name can't be uttered..."unable to be written – except in the stars" such a beautiful poem!

  2. Awww, thanks, Hannah! Knew you would "get" this one. :-)

    1. For SURE, Pamela!! This sung to me like a sweet nature lullaby!! Loved!