listening to the harmony
as I walked into the forest today
I could hear the birds singing
and was so impressed
with what they had to say--
it felt like a genuine welcome
almost as if they were truly glad
to see the likes of me
and I didn't even feel alone
deep in those dense woods--
just felt so alive, so incredibly free...

I'm slowly coming to know
that I belong on this great earth of ours
and no matter what happens in life
I can lean on my amazing and magical powers
and know that as long as I stay moving ahead
and stop looking back all the time
somehow all will work out for me
and one day, yes one awesome day
things will be truly awesome and fine!

another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall ridge of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.

the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker. the work is comparatively easy, lifting
hundred pound bags, so you can just imagine what
we do other days. in fact, it's fun, especially for
young Bates. we get all white (and our lungs dusty).

on the way to and from the work site I read
in Silent Spring, the chapter against herbicides, gathering
inspiration for the upcoming controversy. in the end
perhaps I'll be fired for refusing to lay down Tordon
beads. realizing this, as I drive with Bates,
I see the dark green conifers and begin to miss them.

                                         Rocks and rattlesnakes, bluebells
and mountain daisies, grasses and cactuses, mahogany
bush, lodgepole pine and quaking aspen, lush forest
and dry sun-tortured mountainside, wind and seed
carried by wind, ants, streams, hummingbird
and hawk, deer, badger, ground squirrel, wolverine.

Blessed am I to dwell where travellers roam,
weary on their aching feet
they sit here, sand between toes, sunburnt scalp and ice-cream hands.

Where lit fires warm content bones, sheltered from storms beyond the panes.
But our storms are never ugly here,
rain dances bout' the cliffs, wind shaking woods, sky full of bruise coloured clouds.

Not neat,
this land is not of order, she is made of wilder stuff;
of 'untamed'- of 'free',
of rolling land and sprawling wood.
Not neat, no, but peace.

The hard-packed gravel road in the woods
Winds and twists and meanders
And is lined on either side by sun-lit dusty branches
And thin twining trees with more leaves than trunk
Which turn into standing logs, tall and thin and dappled,
Branches high, dusky and shifting light,
Or a charred forest of once-was pointing out the sky
Or fields of soft baby pines in the sun,
Sometimes clearing to show
The sharp gentle curve of mountains
Rising green and falling blue,
Fuzzy edges of pine lining,
Slowly obscured again by one tree, then two
Then a small forest of thin trees
And dusty sunlit bushes
Lining a meandering, twisting, winding
Hard-packed gravel road in the woods

Walking in the woods alone in the dark, the only sound I hear are wolves howling for my heart. No around besides spirits running through the night no is watching except owls above my head there no light in my eyes, only the stars across the shadow skies. It’s cold and windy leaves are trembling brown and helpless no oxygen in the air can’t hardly breathe ran into a black wall, waking up a creature that ten feet tall. Eyes and teeth start to appear saliva dripping down its mouth waiting to eat my soul tears comes down my body start to shake, when the creature roars making an earthquake. This monster eating my guts carving my skull with its blades of claws screaming in agony pain squishing my organs like a wine press, asking myself how I got into this mess. Left for dead as I drown, with my yoke of blood all over Satan ground. Got caught, by his fire hands then woke up with this nightmare of thoughts.

**By Jacob Cuadro

Jumping high,
She stretched with all her might
Fingers passing inches below
The first firefly of the night

It flew deep into the woods
She chased it far into the night
But she was not afraid
Following that firefly's bright light

In fits and bursts,
It grew dim, then bright
And as it led, she fearlessly ran
Deeper and deeper, into the twilight

The night grew darker
But the firefly brighter
The girl ran on as,
The forest grew quieter

This part of the woods
She had never explored
"Come follow me, follow me"
Her beacon implored

She followed yet further
The beasts of the forest grew near
But still she followed
And felt no fear

A last turn she was led on,
Then onto a beach
A pond, long held secret
She stopped, flushed as a peach

Soon she had to go back
With her the firefly stayed
To light up her soul
And forever brighten her days

Watching the fireflies
in the woods, from our back porch,
enlightens each dusk

My Day is done
and all is calm;
the sun goes down
and the sky is long.

The breeze picks up
as night comes to play;
the branches a-rustle
for the leaves they display.

The woods they sparkle
'neath a darkening hue;
a veil is falling,
as if on cue.

Thus I sit so quiet
near a gnarled old tree;
thus the shadowed woods
are calling to me.

I'm at peace!
The first in a while;
for my Day is done
and now I can smile.