An Offering to the Forest

By

A mighty task of remembrance lies ahead for all

who lose themselves on purpose.

The Earth recalls our footsteps the way weathered lines

on faces recall woes.

Turn, face East, step further into Gaia’s palm –

the forest conceals what it is not able to steal,

but often grants understanding to those who accept that life is a

pyrrhic victory.

The frowning sun creates a fluttering of hands

like frightened doves

which shield the light from shuttered lids

and offers protection from the Eyes of the Forest who mark

the passage of time.

Crouch.

Feel the weight of your left elbow on your knee.

Reach towards the Earth in a desperate attempt to reconnect yourself.

Cherish the grit of the soil beneath your fingernails

and the dull ache of disappointment as it leaves

through a channel created by your body,

into the Earth.

Bury your sorrow.

Feel secure – the Forest will keep it safe for you, should you wish to

RETURN.

You will find, when you turn back, that you have lost the route:

and anyway, your grief has already matured into a seed,

the seed into a tree.

Who was it that said that beauty evolves from

that which is beautiful?

The Forest towers all around you – millions of grotesque emotions

buried and blossomed and left behind in a desperate act of creation

Of better things.

The trees whisper secrets unknown but you are merely grateful

you do not speak their language.

You have nurtured the Earth with your fear and She has rewarded you

with a tree called COURAGE.

Do not forget it.

Image Seaq68 via Pixaby

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