Becoming Home - Lisa Creech Bledsoe

None of us are the dis-ease within,
the deep dividing
before we are reclaimed, new

When it comes time
to gift our bodies to
the wrens and red spruce,
winds and winding awareness  ̶
to dream amid chrysalides and
cloudless sulphurs  ̶
it will be wrenching hard
before it becomes easeful

We are not adept at
unloosing, and the clean
deer of our spirit falters
in the unfamiliar threshold

We are still beloved of the sun
even as frost blackens the stems
of jewelweed and the first ice
glazes them to the earth

Walk tenderly up the mountain with me
where the trees are rising
like orange and lime clouds,
where our breath rings against
the wingstroke of light
and see how the harvest mouse
makes the ice-rimed folds
of weed and hummock
and hidden places a home  ̶

How, too, will you and I become home

Please don’t stop before the moon rises  ̶
share more of your story with me first
while the gray fox is curled nose to tail,
easy in her den

while you and I become home

Watched by crows and friend to salamanders, Lisa Creech Bledsoe is a hiker, beekeeper and writer living in the mountains of Western North Carolina. Although she is a lifelong freelance writer, she just started writing poetry in the spring of 2018. Her first book of poetry, Appalachian Ground, came out in 2019, and her second book, Wolf Laundry, will be out in 2020. She has new poems out or forthcoming in American Writers ReviewThe Main Street Rag, and Jam & Sand, among others. You can find more of her poetry, wild bouquets, hikes, and other encounters with nature on her blog at