Poet Charles Finn calls ON A BENEDICTION OF WIND, his collaboration with photographer Barbara Michelman, "a quiet, unassuming book." He's right, in a way. "Benediction" is as soft as a prayer. But if you hold the book in your hands and keep very still, you will see these poems (and some micro-essays), like birds rustling in the marsh grass, suddenly lift into the air, taking flight on the wings of words. Like the title implies, this book is a blessing.

I've been reading "On a Benediction of Wind" for the past couple of weeks, slowly and impatiently--slowly because the poems (and Barbara's images) are so full of compressed beauty that I like to sit with them, lingering over the lines, giving them time to open up like time-lapse flowers; impatiently because I want to tear through the whole book quickly, eager to get to the next page. But, as the poems themselves advise, it is best to slow down in life, cock an ear to the tiny miracles we often overlook, and LISTEN.

Here are some lines from the poem "Above It All" which perfectly capture Finn's gift for listening to the earth we live on:

Don’t let the scriptures fool you
There was only ever one commandment.
Walk out into the world. Open your eyes. ( )