An Offering to the Forest
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
