Lost & Found

Poems are finding me.  I don't know how they do that.  But they are searching me out, tracking me down and imploring me to post them.  It seems innocent enough so I have agreed to cooperate.  No prisoners, no hostages, only poems.

 Last night I posted a poem on my face book page which I think I will repost here for those who don't do face book (I know there is at least one of you out there!)

But here is the poem that found me tonight.

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you 

Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, 

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, 

Must ask permission to know it and be known. 

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, 

I have made this place around you. 

If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. 

No two trees are the same to Raven. 

No two branches are the same to Wren. 

If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, 

You are surely lost. Stand Still. The forest knows 

Where you are. You must let it find you. 

—“Lost” by David Wagoner

And here is the poem that found me last night:

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
-Antonio Machado

Have any poems found you lately?