Poem

where the earth meets your step
you feel the bones that carry you
the pillars of your body
and of those who came before you

you carry your body back
to the house you were born in
with its grandfather’s chair
earless mug ants leaking faucet

this is where your aunts’ laughs rang
like bells their bracelets rattling against the plates
this is where you saw your mother mourn

your face a long story now
the lines around your eyes
the rings of the backyard tree, long felled
your ears still tuned to the crickets that went with it

you see yourself digging treasures
out of the ground you want to be buried in
you see your children’s children
walking with your mother’s mother

where can you go when the lights of your city have dimmed
when home is no longer a place that can be found in the dark
swimming with your eyes shut
hunting by feel alone

can your body be a home
a field without fences

can the seeds in your hand
be the promise of a forest

home is a steady ground shifting - pulled away
home is the dog jumping
the footsteps of my upstairs neighbor above my head

the smell of citrus and warm apples
a kitchen strewn with flour

I have my mother's hands
a home I carry with me
a bright plave, a bruised place
no windows to the future

this nest is safe but too small

can I hold the bee hitting its body against the wall
can I grasp the meaning of the reptile's pose

can the scabs of my back
grow new wings for my flight

Margot Delaet and Saskia Stehouwer - Climate Poets
Written for the Pathways to Sustainability Conference At Home?