listening, william stafford

My father could hear a little animal step,

or a moth in the dark against the screen,

and every far sound pulled the listening out

into places the rest of us had never been.

More spoke to him from the soft wild night

than came to our porch for the family on the wind;

we watched him listen, and his face go keen,

till the walls of the world flared, widened.

My father brought in so much that we still stand

inviting the quiet by turning the face,

waiting for the time when the soft wild night

will reach to us here, from that other place.

 (C) William Stafford, from Winterward.

• Spend at least 15 minutes in as un-built a place as you can find, and tune into the soundscape. Listen deeply. Then expand you listening as far as it will go. What wild and undiscovered places is it taking you? When you are ready, reflect on the experience in your journal.

• Write a poem beginning with the words, “What speaks to me from the soft wild night?”
  

• Cultivate a practice of listing ten sounds you heard and treasure at the end of each day.
  

Photo by Toga Ahmetler