Tracing Lines by Lori Hershberger

To write a poem is to trace along the ragged edges of a memory and say, “This is what I experienced.” It is to trace the sweeping flight of a swallow over a river at sunset and say to the world, “This is beautiful.” It is to trace a line through the thick dust and say to yourself, very softly, “I am alive.”

Tracing Lines is a compilation of poems drawn from the life and experiences of an individual learning to live, both at home and in a cross-cultural setting. With themes ranging from nature to prayer to humor, this book is meant to be read slowly and meditatively, with each bit savored. As you read, may you be blessed and able to trace the lines running so beautifully through your own life.

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Excerpt from Tracing Lines © Copyright 2026 Lori Hershberger

Young

They swell the halls of school on hot, humid days,
adolescence spilling awkwardly into sweat-drenched air,
air charged with the grief of love and raw hope,
and fraught with untried dreams.

Beneath the chaos of flashing screens and blinding pressures
throbs the humanity of the young:
gangly, unsure, and wistful.

Oh God,
You who once knew acne and gawky limb and cracking voice,
come down among these sacred halls and walk with us again,
oh ageless One.

How

How a place grows in you,
roots in your belly, branching out
along the arms, sprouting into fingers
reaching high for the music of a language,
seeking words, finding songs,
releasing them into thirsty veins;

How a place niches between your bones,
settles into groove of joint
along the swift turnings of each day,
wreathing into the rhythms of the hour,
wrapping tendons, lighting nerves,
burrowing into marrow;

How two places grow within you,
how they weave themselves into each other,
painfully, beautifully, coiling over bones,
caught in each other's grasp,
their leaves arching, shading, their limbs
twining deep in visceral embrace.