Debra Elisa
Debra Elisa grew up in the shadow of Mount Rainier and fell in love with the land of the Pacific Northwest though longed to travel and learn how people live on the other side of the world. She studied in Glasgow and lived in the Philippines as a Peace Corp Volunteer. She has sat silent in monasteries, gazed up at birds in a sanctuary, and lived in New England for a half dozen icy winters. She met her husband while traveling in India. Together they rode buses along the Trans-American Highway from Guatemala to Argentina as part of a sabbatical. She now lives in Portland, Oregon, where they grow food in their backyard garden and can go days without driving a car. She leads Poetry Play and other creative workshops and offers Somatic Bodywork when not writing, cooking, or wandering in the woods or along coastal beaches. She blogs at www.l-i-t.org Live(s) Inspiring Today and welcomes your visit.s.
You Can Call It Beautiful: $17.99
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Poem from You Can Call It Beautiful
DEAR READER
The poet wonders at the Heron’s chosen isolation
her stance of aloofness so much of her Life
and then how she builds her Nest
mudded weeds woven with stray wire in a Rook
amongst many Wings coming and going.
We might Google for facts and I wonder
about when humans were more committed
requisite for survival. Did we prepare together
for Cat’s Paw and Swales on the Sea
Tornado on Land—eyes on all children
when Fire burned? A ceremony was offered
for each Salmon slain.
Today the simple Blackbirds
sit caw-cawing up there in the Hawthorne:
For what might they grieve?
How long does a change of direction
take for a Flock? Those Crows do not flee fast
but hang out all Day—cries and dives
to honor the fallen.
