Green Leaves

Ted Olik, a good friend and teacher gave me his copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman when I was having a hard time in college...he suggested I read Song of Myself...the poem is exasperating...it felt like I was reading one long sentence, no breaks...buckets of energy in each line...I didn't read it in one sitting...it was too powerful...I remember finishing it on my way to New Hope, PA. It was almost dark, and it was raining. It was fall and the trees were losing their leaves...I remember the glistening rain on the road and the smell of the leaves were very strong. The poem opened me up to a new way to look at nature. I realized intellectually then I was part of nature...part of its rich cycle of life...

(52)
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.