Buffalo Wallow

A poem

Feb 29, 2024

Photo Credit: University of Washington

Buffalo Wallow

Have you heard of a buffalo wallow?
They roll around in the dirt, creating great hollows
Bowl-like depressions, dotting the earth
-- This poem is about that, and maybe rebirth.

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I cry and cry and cry,
Until the earth beneath me is wet
Slowly forming a bowl of mud, tears and sweat
-- It holds me.

A depression in the earth
A hole in my self worth
Rolling and tolling, and growing in girth.
--This is my buffalo wallow.

I cry and cry and cry
My eyes are puffy, my heart in riot
Still the deep ache does not quiet
--Surely, my tears are watering something?

The mud turns to clay
Laying in my vessel, I begin to pray
The rain comes and fills the cache
--I now have something to drink.

I cry and cry and cry
Out of the corner of my eye, a tiny bud appears
A purple henbit, I grew from my tears.
--Signs of spring are near.

Every time I wallow, I shed,
Misery, old skin, sorrow and dread
Over time, these particles start to make a new bed
Lined with my sorrows, evenly spread

I cry and cry and cry
Until a new ecosystem forms
A small pond appears, sweetly adorned
--A beautiful, shimmering dragonfly.

Then came the frogs, with their friendly, low ribbit
Next come the sunflowers, dense as a thicket
Now I can sleep to the sounds of the cricket
--I am not alone.

Stop wallowing they say
But don't they know I am creating a home
A place for the swallows and rabbits to roam
A lake full of wonder and microbiome

In years to come, people will fish on this lake
They will eat sandwiches in boats, and quack with the drake
And they will never know, I made this whole life with my ache

That's what the wallow teaches,
The holes in the earth, can be turned into beaches
Never underestimate how far your tear reaches
Feel it all, but face it
That's what the buffalo preaches