Featured Poems
Roses:
I grew the most
beautiful roses in Utah.
They had been stumps
when we moved in
and I nursed them back into
bushes full of blossoms and color
and the heady fragrance of musk.
When we left Utah, I drove so fast
that the sun hadn’t even risen in my
rearview mirror.
A fresh start we thought,
clean and empty -
except for those roses,
I longed for my beautiful roses.
Now I am planting new roses.
Baby roses that have never grown out of a pot.
Seven years I have waited
seeing if I could stay put,
watching every corner of this yard
for how the sunlight comes and goes.
I have planted evergreens and bushes –
rhododendrons and azaleas.
This year we decided trees would work
and we sprinkled them in the yard
like omens to stability.
Last fall I buried my cat
in the lawn with a dead bird
I had found lying under the dogwood.
Sometimes I touch the grass
where she is buried and I
imagine her running in heaven
with that bird hanging out of her mouth.
I think of how brave she became when we moved here.
Suntanning in little patches of light
instead of hiding under the bed or behind the stove.
I think of how brave we all have become
in this new place.
Now I will tend new roses with glorious names
like “Gemini and New Day”.
They will have soft pink petals
and blossom in the summer heat
next to the compost bin
and the clematis.
Their tags describe them as
fragrant and strong.
I imagine
tall steady stems.
Huge double blossoms.
A perfect match for the climate and soil.
Written by Noelle Rollins
North Bend, Washington
2003
Verdancy: a poem from my book “Ten Thousand Acorns”
Yesterday I took the kayak
out on the Portneuf River -
Just a small section
cradled by waterfalls.
I paddled slowly
against the current
upstream.
Hidden below my
paddles,
a world of leafy green
jungles too deep for
the eye to see.
The day before, I had
sat on the bank while
a young muskrat
ate lunch at the
water’s edge,
its litter mate skating
back and forth.
A few thistles are
beginning to open,
pink and purple and prickly.
Everything is so green -
the marsh grass,
the bushes,
the glistening water.
A fish jumps
and creates circular
ripples -
a small splash.
A moth lies dead
it’s two eyes just
visible where the wings
froze in descent.
Everything is sacred -
the beauty and the brokenness,
the ripples and the falls,
the thorns and the garden,
the upstream and the down.
All of life rests
on an altar.
Nothing in this life is wasted,
not even time.
Written by Noelle Rollins
Idaho 2021
About the poem “Roses”
I wrote this poem while still living in the Pacific Northwest many years ago. It is an old one but it came back to visit me recently when we returned to Utah following the loss of our beloved Betty in the tornado in Oklahoma. Each day I would head out on a walk in the morning and take pictures of all the beautiful roses growing in the yards. Utah really does grow the best roses. Those pictures are in this video, along with some pictures of the PNW landscape that helped us grow into who we are now.
This poem is about becoming brave. About adapting to the soil that is most native to you and blossoming into your full self when planted in the right conditions.
After the tornado we have been struggling to feel brave again. This poem reminds me that we will be brave again because the life that we have chosen for ourselves is the best soil we can be planted in for a courageous blooming in this life.
It just might take a little time.
About the poem “Verdancy”
This poem was written on the banks of the Port Neuf river outside of Lava Hot Springs, Idaho. It is a place we retreated to during the pandemic and have returned to a few times over the years. The nearby hot springs help to soak away many aches and woes.
This poem was born during a period of meditative sitting. I had been thinking of the line “everything in life is sacred” and the idea of what might happen to my life if I thought of all life resting on an altar. As I sat with these thoughts I noticed how green my surroundings were at that point. It reminded me of Hildegard and her message of verdancy. All of a sudden everything just felt so alive - even in the dying - it felt alive.
One morning I took my kayak out for a short paddle and found myself in awe at all the life teaming below the surface. It felt significant to the whole idea.
This poem is included in my book “Ten Thousand Acorns”. I was reminded of this poem recently while going through a particularly anxious morning - worrying about the world, the loss and the pain. It was as if I needed to be reminded that life is sacred. To honor it as best as I can. To not give up hope. To see it all resting on the altar of God.