New Works by Mary Harwell Sayler

In the summer of 2012 we published the debut poetry collection of author Mary Harwell Sayler entitled, Living in the Nature Poem. Over the month of June we have been looking back on this collection and checking in with Mary about her recent projects. Today we would like to offer two new unpublished pieces my Mary for your enjoyment.

Mary Harwell Sayler began writing poems as a child but, as an adult, wrote almost every­thing except poetry. Although her pub­lishing credits of two dozen tra­di­tion­ally pub­lished books (Zondervan, B&H, CSS, Chelsea, Facts on File, etc.) explore a wide range of inter­ests in fic­tion, non­fic­tion, devo­tionals, and children’s books, her first book of poetry, Living in the Nature Poem, came out in 2012 when she found a fit­ting home in the environmentally-​​aware pub­lisher Hiraeth Press. As a lover of God, nature, and almost every­thing living, Mary hopes these poems will encourage readers to recon­nect with the nat­ural world, spir­i­tual world, and their own body cells.

Connecting with the Body of Christ mat­ters greatly to her too. As a life­long lover of the Church in all its parts and the Bible in each English ver­sion, Mary encour­ages Christian Poets & Writers (edi­tors, artists, and pub­lishers too!) in their work through the group she began on Facebook. For her own work, she con­tinues to focus on researching and writing blogs, devo­tionals, and poetry, espe­cially poems on Bible people, prayers, para­bles, and other bib­lical themes.

 

Reverberations

 

On a foggy day,

sounds from everything around

bloom like dandelions.

 

________

 

The Swing, Unseen by Stevenson

 

Oh, how I like to go up in a swing,

up

with my head thrown back

and my legs pointed toward the sky—

so blue—

my upper arms bearing the weight

of a workout,

my forearms firming

as I grasp the chains connecting

the schoolyard seat

my husband bought by Internet

then attached to a long limb

of King—our large oak tree—

as I climb the sky—so blue—

canopied with lush leaves—

so green—

though I can still be seen

by neighbors across our lake, who

call me “the swinger,”

something I never was

until now,

swinging back and forth, back

and breathing rain-refreshed air—

soaring higher and higher into free

verse—up in the air—

no

gravity.

 

 

Photo © Mary Harwell Sayler