Without the cottonwood grove
leaning into the prevailing spin
of the world, how will I learn
to stand?
If not for the geese angling
their V into the alfalfa field,
how will I know what it means
to dance?
If not the shadowed face
staring from the bottom of the well,
what will teach me
the true meaning of fear?
Without the look over her shoulder
straight into my gaze,
how will I fathom
true longing?
If not for the pillars of light
seeping through branches
at day’s end, how will I know
what it means to pass away?
Without the waters weeping
and singing over the face
of the earth, how will I learn
to fall?
—
Terry Ofner grew up in Iowa not far from the Mississippi River. His poetry has appeared in One, San Pedro River Review, Orange Blossom Review, and other print and online journals. He was the recipient of the 2024 Thomas Merton Grand Prize in the Poety of the Sacred (poem forthcoming in Parabola Magazine).
