I find sanctuary in the wet, green moss on the shady north side of the trail
The floor that skitters with the movement of life
The sunshine that scatters through the canopy of pine needles

The forest works alive with motion
And yet there is calm in the silence of the wood
All playing their part in peaceful existence, mostly

The give and take of rotting matter feeding the cycle of new growth
Some flourish while others adapt to the discomfort
Growing where they’re planted and healing the wounds of their lot

Nature finds a way to survive the violence of drought, wind, fire, or flood
And the seeds of resilience live on in the next generation
Stronger, wiser