Thursday, November 25, 2010

Wandering the woods. Again.

I wrote the following poem last Spring after my Mom's passing. I ran across it today and thought I'd post it for anyone who, like me, has spent much of their life wandering in the woods, both figurative and literal.

These Woods

These
           deep
                    deep
                             woods
with brown brittle leaves
                                         windswept
                                                              strewn
and birds
                upon birds
                                  upon birds

singing in their infinite joy
                                           and
                                                  daily
                                                            chatter

These woods like a
                                darkened
                                                womb
bid me enter and
                              remember
                                                and
                                                        remember

Our lives a tangled twitter
                                           unfinished clutter
                                                                        impossible beauty
ravaged and torn
                            reborn
                                        beneath an ever changing sky
                                                                                        and deepest night

'til light returns to surest light
                                                beginning
                                                                 where we end
the wordless and the wilfull and the
                                                           ever present
                                                                                 morning song

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