Refuge is a place I go to be with other forests. A blessed place…even when I have a dog that is dying. Two free writes from the field where Nature is Queen of May and June…
The Calling
Clouds billowing, light gray, Mary’s window waves of glass ripple through a forest still stirring from winters sleep – the gorge a space in between hemlock and pine a silver river sliding over stone – trillium painted roses burgundy too, mayflowers leathery green, crowned with pearls – intoxicating scent for bumblebees and me – Mary’s house Holds Mystery in Place – Forest Sanctuary – smooth beech branches bud curled tightly a few days before lime leaves unfurl – I am listening – Lucy’s breathing more labored now, too thin she shivers – I have built a fire – Blackburnian warblers sing on – the breath of the forest holds us in a still place – moments stretching back to beginnings, opening a door to our return… comfort and belonging in all that is and will be – death of a beloved – I cannot know. Loon flies over the river and Mama Goose honks new horizons- A Calling – death is only a return to beginning – if only my longing didn’t hold a lake full of tears – In joy and sorrow Refuge speaks to belonging – belonging – belonging – 400 million years – rustling needles silently conversing – this Earth a miracle in the making – the Present All There Is…
Refuge in Blue
River grinding stone to sand – mosaic cracks in blue – forest breathes life with every death – one pulsing heart – S/he beats the drum – green frogs and warblers – fragrant woodland symphony – emerald longing soothed by song – Framing the window pearl white clusters – heart shaped leaves – beyond beech leaf butterflies flutter in lime – downed tree limbs – decomposers arise – build soul and soil from deep below –
Mineral rich worms burrow into a myriad of threads – mycelial net embraces earth’s core – phoebe gathers mosses – deer hair softens the cup where she gives birth – ovenbirds trill – in such company even limed branches clasp palms in prayer – hemlock and pine praise the sky –
Mother Trees Hum – Crowns needled in wonder – so many homes no one goes without – a whole community invites me in – Pine stands sentry a Guardian still.