The cloudless sky
Slices blue
Through the layers I’ve worn
To keep the season at bay.

The frozen ground winces,
Then gives way,
Exposes its spongy underside,
Greets my walking soul
In little splashes of giggling dew.

(Every step
Pulls the anchor taut:
Wherever Gaia is headed,
I want to go with her.)

There is a cedar tree
On the way
That touches me,
Winter-sleep tender;
So I touch it back.

I wonder if it misses me
When I walk another way,
Or if my imagination
Has, yet again, taken up
The Story.

But the fact is
It was there long before
My feet ever touched the Mother,
Its wisdom ancient
In communal inclinations.

The Trees have
Their very own society;
They know every step
Man has taken;
Every utterance of
Every being;
Yet they do not war.

Their exchange is simple –
Their exhale for ours –
And we all breathe a little easier.

A wisp of wind
Ices my cheeks –
A blessing on this fine,
Winter mourn –
I send my smile to the Universe
In grateful repose.

12/06/2012

Posted on 12/06/2012
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