Walking

Walking

Walking on the road one night
my granddaughter says,
Grandma, are you afraid?
And I say, no, knowing this place
where the white dog lives,
where the chickens and birds hide eggs,
where the neighbor's geese go at night
leaving the river of new darkness.

And I know the worms
come up from the ground at night
so thick and beautiful you can hear them.
They shine and explore the black loam
and raise themselves to the night.
I have seen this.

I know fear has come down to us
from the first universe
where the beginnings of stars are never tame.

When she was born I was first to see her.
I held her up to be seen alive by ancestors
And beautiful spirits.

But I don't know what else is there.
If I think about it
if she cries at night,
I will join her.

~ Linda Hogan ~

(Rounding the Human Corners)