Just a short distance and I am amongst the trees,
I perceive the shadow of Thoreau and John Muir,
as I enter the realm of Gawain and the Green Man,
While the leaves from winters passed announce my arrival,
amidst the lower brush and decaying branches.
I glance upward at the tree line swirling around me,
bowing my head in humility at the beauty unfolding before my eyes, the true lines of nature complete in the patterns of bark, leaves, and rocks.
It is Jefferson’s words that come to mind, “All men are created equal”,
That may be true for mankind but not for the woods, they are better than men.
We hike further into a cathedral of trees,
from new growth hemlocks; light, airy and sparse,
to primeval backwoods; thick, dark and solemn;
Such noble names as Birch, Poplar, Elm, Pine, Spruce, and Oak are in residence,
outfitted in the regal fabric of the seasons.
And water lovers need not be disappointed,
The life blood of the woods is its lakes, streams, and rivers.
We are all sons and daughters of fluidity; children of the Lady of the Lake,
for Triton and his legion of water nymphs reign here as well as the great oceans.
We are better amongst the trees as our better angels come into form,
seeking to adapt and become our sacred surroundings,
just as Native Americans related to the earth and sky in prayer;
“I step into the day, I step into myself, I step into the mystery.”
There are no wrong turns in the woods,
just new roads in multicolored layers.
And with each new road,
we earn a chance for redemption.
*Photo courtesy of Pixabay