An Oklahoma Poem: Coming Home

A poem celebrating Oklahoma's natural beauty.

I like going for nature walks around the state’s parks and trails. I like jotting down what I see, and letting myself be immersed in the natural world. In the spirit of National Poetry Month, I attempted to capture Oklahoma's natural beauty through verse, and I submitted a poem titled "Coming Home" to the Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry's annual contest. The contest called for poems that celebrate Oklahoma, and drumroll "Coming Home" won second place!

Photo of the Antelope Hills in Northwest Oklahoma by Raychel Sanner.

I’m honored that “Coming Home” was selected as one of the winners in the 2024 Oklahoma Poem Contest’s adult category. Oklahoma’s nature has inspired me to write many poems in the past two months. I imagine Oklahoma’s nature will continue to inspire my writing as I visit the prairies to see the newborn bison learning to walk, dig for selenite crystals in the salt plains, and discover more waterfalls.

Please enjoy!

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“Corinne’s poem “Coming Home” is a warm, sensual illustration of the natural world here in Oklahoma and how it affects the person who experiences it daily. The poem gives the reader a feel for the beauty of the landscape, developed with skilled repetition and rhythm,” said Shaun Perkins, ROMP executive director.

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Coming Home

I come from the womb of these starry woods

The ancient mountains, the mesas, the plains

I come from the tempests that rise in my bones

A frost feathered night that thaws into spring

I come from those coming home again.

I come from a gate snapping shut in the wind

A ring of thunder – endless in might

Flickering Bluestem and switchgrass and reed

I come from the pinelands and hills full of light

I come from those who grew mountains from seed.

I come from the marsupial warmth of the marsh

The loam and the froth, the earthsmell and musk

The mouth of the stream where power is drawn

The birds on the Arkansas River at dusk

I come from those who call back the dawn.

I come from the rose rock and moon and the wild

The fox and her kits who nest in the shed

I come from the field where the bergamot grows

The stars and the sunsets, piercing and red

I come from those who say we are not dead.

The wanderers who go, who return, who begin.

Who say we are here, we are home again.

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Read my poem and the other winners’ of the 2024 Oklahoma Poem Contest here.