Jane Hirshfield was born in 1953 in New York City. She is an ordained lay Zen Buddhist and a well-regarded translator; she is also one of my favorite contemporary poets.

I have heard Hirshfield described as the poet of “presence.” Her work is often described as a bridge between the Western lyrical tradition and the meditative depth of Zen Buddhism, and the results are wonderful.

Here is her poem “For What Binds Us.”

Enjoy!

FOR WHAT BINDS US
  by Jane Hirshfield

There are names for what binds us:
strong forces, weak forces.
Look around, you can see them:
the skin that forms in a half-empty cup,
nails rusting into the places they join,
joints dovetailed on their own weight.
The way things stay so solidly
wherever they've been set down—
and gravity, scientists say, is weak.

And see how the flesh grows back
across a wound, with a great vehemence,
more strong
than the simple, untested surface before.
There's a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised: proud flesh,

as all flesh,
is proud of its wounds, wears them
as honors given out after battle,
small triumphs pinned to the chest—

And when two people have loved each other
see how it is like a
scar between their bodies,
stronger, darker, and proud;
how the black cord makes of them a single fabric
that nothing can tear or mend.

LISTENING WITH A PENCIL AND MY EAR

Here are the lines that I marked when I first read this poem a few years ago. They still stand out for me today:

gravity, scientists say, is weak.

* * * * * * * *

the black cord makes of them a single fabric
that nothing can tear or mend.

As you read her poem, what lines stand out to you? And which lines do you think best characterize the idea of “presence”?