In the depths of verdant woods, whispers dwell,
Ancient trees stand tall, with stories to tell.
A tapestry woven with secrets untold,
The forest, a sanctuary for spirits of old.

Through dappled sunlight, gentle breezes stir,
As melodies of nature softly purr.
Moss-clad stones, witnesses of ages gone by,
Guarding the wisdom that time can't deny.

In the heart of the forest, silence is alive,
A hallowed hush, where wild creatures thrive.
The subtle rustle of leaves, a sacred hymn,
Echoing the harmony of nature's eternal whim.

Amidst towering pines and canopies above,
A place where the spirit finds solace and love.
The sunbeams, like leaves, gently cascade,
Inviting us to wander through nature, unafraid.

In the footsteps of our ancestors, we tread with care,
Respecting the balance, the fragile and rare.
For the forest is more than a mere collection of trees,
It's a sanctuary, a refuge, where the soul finds ease.

So let us venture forth, guided by poetic light,
Into the embrace of the forest, an ancient rite.
May we find inspiration in nature's embrace,
And honor its beauty, while we leave no trace.

I’m trying to recall a poem or a prayer that I recited
while walking through the woods of my hometown.
It occurs to me that I’ll never get it back.
I suppose such things are meant to be transient,
spoken out loud and left to drift,
But I am determined to capture some of it.

So. Here in the woods
Branches droop heavy and black with berries.
I pluck to gather them and make of my hands
two cups from which saltwater spills.
I see a vision of the old and the new,
the here to come and the hereafter,
overlaid on the thick pine stumps.
That which has passed is not yet gone.
Like trees, we grow on the rotten bones of giants.
There is no king of the once and future,
Nay, nor queen. Only the rough tumult
of life that continues, and abates, and continues.

Here on the holly branch the spines sharpen.
The red berries have not ripened from black.
On the thorns I see blackberries still **** and red,
not yet sweet with concentrated sunshine.
I see the skulls of snag trees, the knothole eye sockets
where woodpeckers find their mealy dinners
and feast on the beetles and worms –
which shall in their turn one day feast on me.
So it goes, as it should be, as it will.
My vision shows oak giants long passed,
toppled and timbered an age before my time.
A thousand years hence they shall rise again.
Fear not; the axes of men wreak havoc,
but may only interrupt the flow, not halt it.

Again I stoop to pluck the fruit
And form two cups of my hands
From which juice flows like water.
The ocean licks the sweat from my skin
And I see a vision of the old woods,
the old ways, the elder magick
That will grow from seed tomorrow.
Hew my limbs in history, bury them in timber.
Let the barrow-mounds be a nursery
Where the thornbush harvest grows.

The Future
What future?
The future is here.
The future is now.

The next generation can inspire
We can admire their ideals
Wish aloud they had the power
                                                           to make change

But they don’t
here
now

We do
WE DO
We can do more than wish and admire

The future is here
The future is now

Many minds are needed
Tackling a worlds’ worth of problems

Many minds are already
solving one problem at a time
here
now

So many solutions exist
So many already pursue them
Beware waiting for the “best” one

The search for perfection
Runs right alongside
The path of procrastination

Try all the ideas at once
Throw everything we have at the wall to see what sticks
Use the solutions that are
here
now

Some may say
“Best” is worth waiting for
Being methodical is more
                                                efficient
  ­                                                               cost-effective
                                                  ­                                         safe

SLOW

The future is here
The future is now

Find the ones who are already
Identifying problems
Advocating for needs
Bringing solutions

Give them the resources
Amplify their ideas
Scale up their actions
HERE
NOW

Solutions will come from above and below
From science and beyond
From outsiders and insiders
Let’s meet in the middle
No mind turned away

The future is HERE
The future is NOW

Say it with me

The future is HERE.
The future is NOW.

Stay on the trail
We say
Don’t disturb the environment
We believe
Limiting our presence
is best

But is the trail truly separate from its surroundings?

Just for a moment
                                  leave the trail behind

Step on the grass
Settle into the dirt
Sink into the water
Feel the rock
The sand
The soil

Any of it
All of it

We are not confined to the trails
Not our influence
Nor our impact

We are not separated
Kept safe and apart
By the trails, roads, structures that we make

The illusion of our disconnection
From our ecosystems
                                        is
                                              dangerous

Allowing us to only play the role of
Savior with our absence
Destroyer with our presence

Both Savior and Destroyer are outsiders
Gods that act on the world
While remaining removed
Unaffected

We are not gods

We are
               players in all ecosystems
                       entrenched in all food webs
                               affected and affecting

Only by seeing ourselves in the picture
Neither problem nor solution
But part of all processes start to finish
Can we see what conservation truly is

Conservation of balance
Conservation of community
Conservation of self
                                      as part of the whole

Static equilibrium is not the goal
Our world has always been dynamic
Ever changing
Ever evolving

Each player in an ecosystem gives as well as takes
How do we give?
Can we balance our give and take
Find reciprocity
                               in each unique facet of our world

I believe we can
We must
We will

Imperfectly but with purpose
Through setbacks and leaps ahead

And I need you to believe it too

This little world is like most worlds
Throughout the Cosmos.
Here the sun never moves
From its place in the sky:
Seemingly endless morning or eve,
Take your choice.

No concept of time.
No seasons.
Nothing to show the passing of the years.
Just that sun.
Moons optional.

The plants are black
Under a dark red sky
All sombre
All still
Apart from the odd cold wind
From this planet’s “Dark Side”.

For, like most planets,
This world resides in the Goldilocks Zone
Of a Red Dwarf Star
A zone where water may flow
Under the glow of a star
Like the vast majority of stars
Throughout the universe.

This world’s residents might well look out
Into space
With envy at our golden sun
With its blue Earth
Adorned with a coat of green
And its seasons
And days and nights.

They may learn from us about time
About our freedom to roam a long way
Without meeting tropical desert
And eternal frost on the dark side.

They may gasp in wonder
At this Paradise of ours
As they ponder their black grass
And hide from solar flares.
No respite from that relentless red sun,
No sense of time
Apart from monotony.

And they might wonder at us,
As we fail to care
For our glorious world
As it basks in our golden sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 28\7\2001.

Shapely steaming trees make clouds of their own:
Raining daily on the rainforest.
Rumbling jungles serenaded by a clichéd cacophony of birdsong.

I love all trees wherever they are:
Pinewoods in temperate zones,
Palms on tropical isles,
Ancient oaks full of magic.

See breeze kissed canopies high in the sky,
Forests deep in mysterious gloom.
Let Attenborough portray the rest.
Tarzan and Robin Hood to reign forever.
Keep your axes and saws away.
Let’s plant as many trees as we can
And watch them grow.

Paul Butters

© PB 18\3\2021.

What you exhale, we inhale,
a transaction that costs nothing
but one that keeps us living.

We have been busy exploiting,
So keep forgetting
that life cannot exist without you.

This forgetfulness could end us,
but you will rise from the ashes again
to nurture life in the future.