(photo my own)
A walk within pine woods,
red needles crackle under feet,
the remembered scent of cabins
and north country grounds me
in familiar belonging.
Then the swans appear
in soft white curves
as one floats near the beaver dam
and others swim
within boundaries of cattails.
A whistle screams a train's arrival,
its roar and hurry,
toward some unknown goal.
I walk and breathe,
look and listen.
Now, a conversation with birch
who comes into view.
What is your story, I ask,
a bold enticement
held in deep woods green.
Walking alone,
the mind's prism.
How can I be alone when a world
of creation walks with me,
within me,
in every step?
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Beautiful
Thank you, VJ!😊
So beautiful, your walk in the woods. I felt much the same walking by Flanagan Lake today in Omaha after
a long drive from Prescott. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Wonderful Janine. I am so happy you enjoyed a similar experience. Thanks for your comment. It is lovely to hear from you. 🥰
So many times that very pine grove has patiently listened to my thoughts and questions, never rushing me, but letting them tumble out, to be picked up by the cleansing breeze, swirled around a few times, and later redeposited with a fresh perspective on my return path home. 🤓
I love this, John. Beautifully stated and so true. 🥰