As I shuffle through the arroyo, I keep dropping to my knees. An onlooker might mistake me for a pilgrim making my way to Lourdes. But the healing I seek cannot be found at some distant holy shrine. It is here in the dust at my feet: cedar twigs snapped off by storms; summer’s leftover flowers; small stones trying in vain to fatten themselves on wisps of winter sun.
I aim my camera at a clump of wasted wildflowers, remembering words from a letter written long ago: “God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are…” (1 Corinthians 1:28, RSV).
Low and despised is nature’s detritus in the arroyo, but it heals my battered spirit as I kneel in awe and wonder before it.
I kneel in the dust,
searching for underground streams—
three crows bear witness.
Revised haibun © 2016 and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #324 at Poets United
Posted on October 16, 2016, in 5-7-5, Arizona, Macro Monday 2, Northern Arizona, Poetry Pantry, Poets United and tagged crows, haibun, Northern Arizona, wildflowers, witness. Bookmark the permalink. 20 Comments.