In the World
by Brigid Lowry

in the strange early morning half light we sit
in the cloudiness of our questioning we sit
in our madness and our clarity we sit
in the midst of too much to do we sit
in the warm arms of our shared sorrow we sit
in community and in loneliness we sit
in sweet exhaustion we sit
in the blazing energy of being alive we sit

here with the singing crickets
here with each electric birdsong
here with the rippling of breezes and the dry grasses
here with the cobwebs and the clouds
and the dusty road upon us

us in the sound and the sound in us

us in the world and the world in us