In February of 2024, we released our fifth Open Call: Using art, letters, stories, and poetry, tell us: how might we create healthy spaces and places for all? The following is a poetry submission we received from this open call.

“This poem describes the effect nature has on me when I’ve been in a man-made setting too long. Particularly, this poem describes my feelings one fall when I would drive home from work. I remember how much I would look forward to that drive each day. The view was so beautiful and it would heal me after being in a difficult work situation and setting. As well as a need for nature the poem comments, in a subtle way, of how unpleasant or uninspiring interior spaces can affect our attitudes and psyche. I did what I could to make my work space colorful and pleasant, but there was only so much I could do. The issue of beauty and how we are affected by what’s around us is something I study and try to control when I can. This is an important topic and I hope others would become more aware of how they are affected by their environment from reading my poem.”

Karen Warinsky

“The Orange Tunnel”

So I’m flying through the orange tunnel
feeling the relief that comes after a long day of work,
paying attention to the details;
light, color, shadows,
the song on the radio,
the barn in the field,
the bird on the wire and
the cat in the weeds with its ability to balance
and its desire to hide.
Paying attention to the inside.
All here before, this nature,
but lately its soaked into my mind,
protection against the cold grey file cabinets,
the rust-chipped, mottled metal desks
with the fake, fraying wood trim
ripped away around the edges,
the harshness of others, their boredom
and the lack of caring
they tend to display.
Time flies with me in the orange tunnel as I absorb
the splash of saffron on the leaves of those thick bushes,
observe the deep maroon cascade of wet, waxy ivy
pushing out from the center of trees
that will stand and stand
and not fall down
till I’m gone,
and I roll down the window and feel the air,
letting it come in and blow my hair into a mess,
try to find my freedom in this moment,
passing through and reaching out to this beautiful,
marigold tunnel of leaves.

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