Sunday, April 24, 2005

Honoring the Loss

A winter storm while in the cabin, fire rumbling, the wood in and everything in place, I am surrounded only by emptiness and swaying trees. All beings are hiding in their lairs, under rocks, the hollow logs. It is a time for sitting and staring, for feeling stillness and solitude, for remembering and honoring.

I knew the secret places where the trillium bloom

the mossy crevices where smooth stone and root tell
a tale of time and water

I watched change happen in rhythms lost to modern life

Oh how I loved you
my wild home

my refuge

so rough in places




Now bow to the countless deaths
that died here.

The ancient ones who couldn’t move

The small lives no one notices
who moved too slow

butterfies and moths
grasshoppers and crickets
beetles hiding under the rocks
worms and moles
the mycelium
the microbes in the soil

the whole web of life I worshipped.

Bow to the green life I lived here

so blessed

so concerned with persisitence

so innocent



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