This is the view from my home desk. Every time I look up at this young oak, I can’t help but recite, in my head, a Jane Hirshfield poem I read in a class with Paul Willis. It’s one of many poems that have stuck with me. I just wish that I could share it in Paul’s calm, effortless voice.
It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.
Even in this
you will have to choose.
That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books —
Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.