Hope is a thing with feathers…
Estes Park, Colorado, is stunning. I was just there for a writing conference. I brought with me a notebook, pencils, and pens but no camera. Note to self: always bring camera when travel to gorgeous Rocky Mountain National Park. Anyway, one of the first things on my To-Do List when I visit a new town is to look for an independent bookstore. Sure enough, I discovered Macdonald Bookshop on E. Elkhorn Avenue. Look at this gem I found in its poetry section:
A print artist and a poet teamed up to create a book about imaginary feathered friends. One of the poems, “Appalachian Mustard Seed,” will bring to mind the famous parable from Luke 13. Another, The Blessing Birds, will remind you of the Beatitudes. I’ve reprinted “Appalachian Mustard Seed” below with the permission of Michigan State University Press. Or you can watch a short YouTube video of Anita Skeen reading her poem
Appalachian Mustard Seed
So tiny it might be thought
to be a bug–an odd beetle–
or a tuft of cottonwood
taken by the wind.
Mountain folk call it
the mustard bird.
They say it appears–
when you need to believe.
In what, it never matters.
The need takes you
to alone space–the dark
barn, the path through the woods,
the room with one window.
Here you might offer the crumb
of a prayer. You might say
if only if only if only–
When you grow silent
you will feel a flutter–
if you are lucky. You will feel
claws become your roots.
–Anita Skeen
