Today
Off the western side of the eastern trees
Bounced back my feelings
And for the first time
Echoed throughout, inside of me
And I am appalled by what I heard
Not what I see

It's been too long** since I had sap on my fingertips, beneath my nails

It's been too long since I've passed by the turkey blind which I built for myself, almost a lifetime ago

It's been too long to know exactly how a clearing fades but never grows

But it's never been too late to walk there again, to ***** my feet in the spring of Earth, and to speak out loud in the cool breeze until I can no longer feel my nose

No, it's never been too long, or too late, for walks like those

This is the path before my feet
Which I'd like to share

The wet grass, the grey clouds, the pine trees
Poking the sky to run their fingers through its hair

Surrounded by the kind of limbs which always thrive
But do not necessarily care, about a man's feelings

How they have listened to me throughout the years
Until my voice is my own in mind

How their echos and their shadows, have carried me in the past
When I was there, and had more weight to bare

But not this time, which is exactly why
I hope you could see both here and there

Beside the talking pines forever
How I hope to walk, without care

I'd describe it for you if you'd ask me
*With a piney laughter in the air

There is a forest near to me
Be it a wooded way within my heart
Which I often wish that you could see
And stand beside me here beneath
These ancient trees
That way no photo I would need
To share its likeness in such a way
As to create certain a memory
And even then if you’re not within
Such a settling scene
I would make it still
Because you simply have to see
The way these ancient roots run deep
And dig into the empty earth
The way that there is a sea of green
Perched just above the best of me
Like a consortium of ill doomed leaves
Which will fall without fail after every summer
And perhaps this year
They will land upon us both for once
As we stand beside here amongst the leaves
Just you and me
Beneath the trees

I love this

The stillness of a cabin just before it's inhabitants, arise to make the coffee and consume the cakes

Like a breakfast mess of scrambled eggs, so I am mixed, and stirred by this, the stillness found within this place

Like a body of water, asleep at last

Or a wooded edge on a logging trail, finally left to be and pass

So I am also alive and well, inside of these hemlock boards

And for but a moments time at peace

In a place where I can forget my more modern sensibilities

And be taken back to a different time and a different place, where the woods still held their persuasive sway

A power over me

How they'd cast a spell upon my mind, most every time, when I was not as tall as these

Outside and near a different cabin, built by the hands of my father for free

But now, as I look out through the window, it's there I see

Out back, by a semi circle cleared of trees

The stillness found in this good morning, in a different cabin, I am at ease

It's not there untill it is proven
            I create the unrest inside