Another poem -- Nancy Wood

My help is in the mountains Where I take myself to heal The earthly wounds That people give to me.

I find a rock with sun on it

And a stream where the water runs gentle

And the trees which one by one give me company

So must I stay for a long time









Until I have grown from the rock

And the stream is running through me

And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.

Then I know that nothing touches me

Nor makes me run away.

My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.

Earth cure me. Earth receive me. Rock strengthen me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt. Sun make sweet my song. Sun receive the anger from my heart.

-- Nancy Wood