There's a buzzing security light
that hangs above our neighbor's
shed, lighting the driveway as
you and I walk passed.  We
challenged ourselves to a brief
bout of silent contemplation:

You said you noticed the rabbit
that ran from us into the dark
and more dangerous woods.
I noticed the simple and beautiful
illumined leaves that shone
like citrine in the streetlight.

Be the wildflower
springing up from the pebbles
on the mountainside.

Don't be like
the hungryman
who works all day for a
few dollars, only to
spend it all on
vices and empty cravings.

No, don't be wasteful.
Don’t give your time
to all the things
that can't possibly satisfy.
Set aside distractions that
leave you empty and wanting.

Come sit at my table.
My words are fine cuts
of dry-aged beef;
my company like
a jar of honey without
the stomachache.

You won’t leave my house
on an empty stomach,
you’ll get more than enough.
So come to me
and I'll sit you down
at a feast fit for a king.

I stand at the groomed
entrance to my forest.
I hold my fists
in the pockets
of my gray wind jacket,
mindlessly staring
into the darkening trees.

I notice the inky bog
that arrived with
the recent storms.
I begin to count
the black, tangled
branches and vines
that increase as my
eyes wander
amongst them.

Suddenly I am filled
with despair as I
come to the understanding:
*the deeper I look,
the darker
and more twisted
things become.

I long for myself
and for those I love
and for those I lead
to be like the
wild sequoias.

Let our reach
be high and vertical.
Let our roots
be firm and intertwined.
Let us be
strategically planted
in deep reservoirs.
Let our bark
be thick and resilient.
Let our seeds
be released
and germinated
when the fire comes.

Yes, let us be
an enduring grove,
outliving difficult
seasons and enjoying
the plentiful.