Emily Warn Poems

With coals of juniper, Lord, with ripped willow clumps,
with lodge-pole pine and fir, with wind-wrack and slash,
I kindle an all-night fire to mirror You.
...

To invent the alef-beit,
decipher the grammar of crows,
read a tangle of bare branches
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The King asks, "Tell me, what is the highest meaning of the holiest truths?"
The Seer answers, "Emptiness, without holiness."
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Hope fills me this morning as I fashion letters
into a tree that sighs, that stays put yet moves,
reaching to its limits, swaying and settling,
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You slow down to watch cumulus clouds stream across the
sky. You choose a more circuitous route home and pass a
tree with white bags tied around random apples. The apples
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Dwelling Place
Where two rivers merge among cottonwoods,
where salmon scour mud from bottom stones,
...