By Charlotte Matthews
As I take a moment on this warm June morning to consider why Whistle Words matters more and more the longer we embark upon this project, I recognize that words really can heal. What we take the time to consider and write can make a powerful impact on our own lives and the lives of others. Here’s a wee poem I wrote that speaks to that.
Everything around me wants to stop
being itself. Even the swallow that trapped
herself in the basement looks addled
by her own existence. The fields with their stiff
rows of corn, the river with its jutting rocks—
all at odds with themselves. I am going to
take words apart and reassign meaning.
Forgiving: for giving. Grateful: great full.
This way the corn may become tender,
the swallow set herself free.