In the woods
Trees Skyward aspiring, firmament obsessed, extend to Him.
Shade whispers buoyant dapplings, raining down and about
wraith controlled
the gentle urging
Of the soaring blue sky, unseen,
in the woods
Hope and sun Not reaching The clinging fern,
humus married to prayers that leaves long claimed,
but faith blessed orison bed, compost made
In the woods
I consign my advance towards Heaven,
Though strongly held, embraced
By inclusive apologetic branches and my own buried faith.
I am lifted by earth’s tender preparation
And fly and sink, both, at once
Drawn to the inevitable.
In the woods
I am sanctified, supinely aware
I Search
For the only place. The one place. The lonely place.
The sun sets, the dew nestles, moss mounds comfort
The silver Stars reach deep,
stolen, silver is forged and hammered
(are we not all smithies, anvil corrupt?)
By His design, by avarice?
Stars reach deep
In the woods
As do I.
