Poetry at the intersection of nomad life and humanism

Poetry at the intersection of nomad life and humanism

The best part of our FIRE life are the people we meet along the way.


There is a group of friends we made on the road, that we have camped with again and again over the years, some of which we have known since we began our nomad life back in 2016.

We refer to ourselves as the Music and Mind Camp (short MMC), an Enduring Nomadic Neighborhood of Friends traveling and camping together.

There are so many fun and interesting people in that group with so many different ideas and talents. I am incredibly grateful to have met each and every one of them.

We are fortunate to have several poets among us and hearing them recite their poetry just makes my heart happy.

I have been meaning to share some poems on this blog and had asked permission to do so quite a while ago, but never have gotten around to actually posting them here. I have shared on my personal page before, though.

Dennis, is one of the friends we met through the MMC group and I am in awe of his talent to put thoughts into words, poems no less.
There’ll be some funny banter, or a serious discussion in the group about some subject and next time we gather for morning circle or sunset watching, he’d have a poem ready on the topic.

It’s really hard to pick a favorite among his poems, because he has so many good ones. I strongly encourage you to check all of them out here: Dennis the Nomad!


From a humanist point of view, I however especially love this one! It brings tears to my eyes, every time I hear it.

 

Cool Earth, Warm Sun
by Dennis (shared with permission)

I think I’d like to be a stone, sitting on a hill.

I’d witness time go speeding on, while I remained quite still.

And if dislodged by careless foot, I’d roll to some new place,

And savor cool earth ‘neath my back, and warm sun on my face.

 

Or maybe I could be a tree, stretching to the sky.

With rain and sunlight feeding me, I’d watch the world go by.

And if wild lightning scarred my flank, or fire scorched my base,

I’d still have cool earth ‘neath my roots, and warm sun on my face.


Or maybe I could be a stream, flowing to the sea.

I’d let each day’s events drift past without affecting me.

And if an earthquake dammed me up, I’d cut a different trace,

Enjoying cool earth ‘neath my bed, and warm sun on my face.


It comforts me to know someday I may be all these things.

I’ll take returning to the earth over angel’s wings.

So when this world distresses me with its hectic pace,

I think of cool earth ‘neath my feet, and warm sun on my face.

 

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