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