Reflections on Helene: Sharing a Poem “In Gratitude” from Dandelion Scribes

I am so grateful to have a poem included in the collection “From the Holler to the Sea: Hurricane Helene Survivors Speak Out”—a collaboration of the Appalachian poetry space Dandelion Scribes and local organizing collective Rednecks Rising. 

Through reading the collection, I am really appreciating the opportunity to reflect on experiences with and changed lives from Hurricane Helene. The framing around “solidarity amidst ongoing global polycrisis” serves as another always-needed call to show up more, to name both the connections and disparate resourcing/attention/power available across contexts, and to intervene in many creative + relational ways.

Below I share the poem I contributed, “In Gratitude,” along with some related blog posts about Helene and poetry. 

Thanks again to @dandelionscribes and @rednecksrising for assembling this collection of reflections on Helene.

In Gratitude

How do I thank the trees who protected?
Those who fell between bedroom and car
Those who didn’t crush the house
Those whose roots held strong
Those whose didn’t
Those who remain and those who’ve fallen

How do I thank the people who provided?
Those who responded first, after, and later
Those who brought food and drink
Those who cut trees and cleared roads
Those who said “I’m here” and “here!”
Those who showed up and those who couldn’t

How do I thank the organizers?
the communicators?
the caregivers?
the engineers?
the artists?
the arborists?
the educators?
the cooks?
the healers?
the responders?
the recipients?
the neighbors near and far?

I bow down,
body low,
humbled to the core,
and repeat: thank you, thank you, thank you.

I pour out grief,
shaking and wailing,
and then find myself laughing, of all things.

I walk among trees,
hoping each offers a gentle, nourishing touch.

I learn more how to receive with grace.

I text and call,
seeking connection and saying again:
thank you.

As life unfolds beyond my knowing,
As I happily unlearn the distance between us,
As I change into what I hope will be a more resourced, showing-up self,
I touch the earth with ever deepening-fortitude.
In gratitude.

Bio:

Beth Godbee, Ph.D. is a public educator, writer, and former writing studies professor. She moved back to Southern Appalachia and newly to Asheville, North Carolina, just ten weeks before Helene. Join her for writing groups, retreats, workshops, or coaching through Heart-Head-Hands: Everyday Living for Justice.

Learn more about my experience with Helene through these past blog posts:

• “Update from (Outside) Asheville: Next Steps after Hurricane Helene”
• “Deep Gratitude Following Helene and Support for These Times”

For more poetry and poetry prompts, check out these past blog posts:

• “Reflective Poetry Prompts from Writing Retreats: A Contemplative Writing Practice”
• “On Choosing a Writer’s Life”
• “Love Notes from Journal Pages”
• “Finding Love, Fueling Justice”
• “A New Spell for a New Space”
• “Inspiration for Writers to Stretch W-I-D-E-R”