I so love this, including the sung and recited versions you offer at the end. I was for many years a visiting poet in schools across my region in upstate New York, and do not know how many times I began my poetry residencies with this poem by Scott Momaday......
Hello Amy, and thank you for the comment. Yes, Donegal is a beautiful county, and I'm not biased in anyway 😇 🇮🇪 On a stormy day/night, I hear the ocean from my room if I open the window, in all my life and travels I have only found one place away from the ocean, where I could live, and that's in a little hillside village in South Burgundy in France called Táize.
It's beautiful to be able to live in beautiful natural surroundings. I grew up in the suburbs of Long Island New York, and whiIe I think it's possible to live an enriched life almost anywhere, the suburbs were not for me. I am so thankful to live in the foothills of the White Mountains in New England. I love the mountains but try to go to the sea in Maine for summer visits because there is nothing like absorbing one's senses in the air, water and sounds of the ocean.
Yes, I agree Amy, it is possible to live a fulfilled and contented life anywhere, but I believe and know it to be true for me, that I need to be away from the cities and large towns, I need a space where I can see the stars in the sky, the spider webs on the bushes, hear streams flowing, see mist capped mountains, listen to the trees whisper, see and hear nature and be able to experience the absence of noise. The roar of a wave, rain beating on a window, a cat on the window sill... ahh, beam me up Scotty!!!!
I am dirty feet
I am black and blue swallowtail
I am all hands on deck
I am throat of a cave
I am every bird's wings
I am choppy waters
I am abundant and ubiquitous hydrangea
I am reflection of the fingernail moon in a still pond
I am great granddaughter of death by childbirth
I am laughter of her long-lived dance-marathon only daughter
I am Anna's cries and Leah's loose fit muu muus
I am lost dreams and loon-call love and latkas
I am also........
🤲🏻…also
I am dirty feet 💜
I am the scream of a swift heralding spring
I am a tree losing its voice by the falling of its leaves
I am the juicy first Lambada strawberry
I am a tree breathing its last in a fire
I am a clear river running over stone
I am the battlestone under Humbleton Hill
I am a kite, soaring over the moors, no line holds me
The scream of spring… what strong and and visceral imagery! I keep saying it over in my mind!
That tree breathing its last. So very visual.
"I am tree breathing its last" hard-hitting right now with all the forest fires in Europe.
vultures roosting in the pine..
the song of the lonesome loon
the rippling moon's light on water
the brook's gentle journey
cries of a distant train
I love that this poem gives weight to the material world. We are in conversation with the place we inhabit and the things we can hold.
I am steam of tea
I am peels of laughter
I am wet morning grass stuck to toes
I am smell of beloved dog
I am stacks of unread books
I am well loved pages
I am endearment of a mess
I am my old dog's blind-blue eyes
I am the yellow bird ripping into sunflower's pocked heart
I am the corner store with the weathered bananas
What a beautiful welcome and a delightful prompt! I am looking forward to reading along when you begin.
I am the tattered book whose pages are worn thin with reading,
I am also folded corners marking words to be remembered,
I am the dark, sweet soil waiting,
The frilled sunflower craning its neck to the sun,
I am also the bee undisturbed in daily collection,
I am pollen gathered on a thigh, floating to the ground,
Or carried on a birds wing.
I am the late August rose, cream colored, and heavy,
I am still water resting in a copper basin by the striped stone,
Waiting to be poured.
Thank you, that's very kind!
The explorer at the mast...
The millstone at its grinding...
The ray of sun on cheek at setting...
The wind in pines at evening.....
Not quite I am, but written for my Father in law’s Committal
Into the gusting or trickling winds
We give you Eddie Browne.
Into the rivers and streams, the chopping and changing sea
Into the fire and white
Into spring showers
Into clotted cumulus or mackerel sky
Into nodding bluebells, campions, ransoms
Into frost morning and dewy evening
Into the golden sun setting pink in the West
Into the stargazey sky
Into tin,arsenic,granite, serpentine,slate
Into hedgerows,woods,cliffs and rocky foreshores
We give you Eddie Browne.
Into ancient mantled earth
Into the universe that made you
Into the ether
Go with our love Eddie Browne.
I only discovered Poetry unbound recently and think it is a jewel of a podcast.
Rain falling between oak leaves
a doe napping among gravestones
thin crescent moon welcoming dawn
the song sparrow's morning chant
where the Allegheny and Monongahela meet
Appalachian mountains greening in spring
a city of bridges
Thanks so much. I live in Pittsburgh, lots of bridges here.
I so love this, including the sung and recited versions you offer at the end. I was for many years a visiting poet in schools across my region in upstate New York, and do not know how many times I began my poetry residencies with this poem by Scott Momaday......
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46558/the-delight-song-of-tsoai-talee. Every age kindergarten thru high school could appreciate the wonder, beauty and delight of starting every line with "I am" and becoming anything they wanted to be.
splintered wood on grandfather's floating dock
the O-mouthed finger mullet tangled in dad's castnet
an overripe peach browning in mother's bowl
the wild thing that hides in Spanish moss—watching you snap your green beans while you hum Amazing Grace
I eagerly await the new season of Poetry Unbound. Your voice has been sorely missed!
~Jenny Noble Anderson
Beir bua agus beannacht, and mitákuye oyàsin.
The perching Eagle, the yellow horse, the black bird, and more, yes, all are my relatives.
Pádraig Wanbli Iyotake
Patrick Perching Eagle Watters of Clan O’hUaruisce and the Rowte of County Antrim
Celtic Lakota ecologist come ecotheologist aka anonemoose monk
}:- a.m.
I believe we all get there, ecotheologist, if we are humble and surrendered to LOVE. };-) 👌🏽
The containment of a basket
The arm that wields the hammer
Paws drumming of the racing cat
Frightening crack of overhead lightning
Intense glow of an annealing flame
I am you
I am the other face of the mountain you hike
I am the the other shore of the the river you swim
I am the remains of the cloud that has just showered your face with rain
I am the rising sun that you have just watched setting
I am your love living happily ever after when your love disappointed you
I am your heart living silence when your heart is roaring
I am you
A little offering from Donegal, Ireland.
Mo Bheith (My Being)
I am of Love
of Mortals
of God
of Earth
Is as Neamh mé.
I am of Words
of Language
of Rhyme
of Story
Is as Leabhar mé.
I am of River
of Mountain
of Sunshine
of Mist
Is as Gleann mé.
I am pieces of You
of Me
of All
of Universe
Tá mé Iomlán.
I traveled in Donegal in 1986 with my cousin and his wife who is from Dundalk. What gorgeous country, cliff and oceanside gifts to behold there!
Hello Amy, and thank you for the comment. Yes, Donegal is a beautiful county, and I'm not biased in anyway 😇 🇮🇪 On a stormy day/night, I hear the ocean from my room if I open the window, in all my life and travels I have only found one place away from the ocean, where I could live, and that's in a little hillside village in South Burgundy in France called Táize.
It's beautiful to be able to live in beautiful natural surroundings. I grew up in the suburbs of Long Island New York, and whiIe I think it's possible to live an enriched life almost anywhere, the suburbs were not for me. I am so thankful to live in the foothills of the White Mountains in New England. I love the mountains but try to go to the sea in Maine for summer visits because there is nothing like absorbing one's senses in the air, water and sounds of the ocean.
Yes, I agree Amy, it is possible to live a fulfilled and contented life anywhere, but I believe and know it to be true for me, that I need to be away from the cities and large towns, I need a space where I can see the stars in the sky, the spider webs on the bushes, hear streams flowing, see mist capped mountains, listen to the trees whisper, see and hear nature and be able to experience the absence of noise. The roar of a wave, rain beating on a window, a cat on the window sill... ahh, beam me up Scotty!!!!
You just wrote the most beautiful poem! Including the Beam Me Up Scotty!! :)
Thank you Amy. I'm struggling to keep up with this Substack thing and am cautious... Mind yourself.
First, what a joy to read others "I am" poems. So rich! Thank you everyone. This could easily be a daily prompt/portal. Here is my offering.
I am molted crow feather offered as wing to fly.
I am the refuge of Ocean’s breath.
I am shadow under river rock.
I am late summer song of goldfinch flavoring morning coffee.
I am sun-warmed sand pulsing through your skin.
I am the photograph that says it all.
I am lolling tongue of contented pup.
I am two tender fingertips on the arm of the grieving.
I am fresh ginger tea rooting deep in your soul.
I am the door opening to a beloved.
I am the last thread of light lacing sun to day.
anne richardson