Trail of Spring

 

The river gurgled, splashed, raced on
Above, trees reached down with mossy fingers
We take the trail, narrowed now by
Snowberry and Oso berry crowding in
 

The dark way spattered
with blooms of maples and catkins
Damp, rich smells of mosses, fungi, and elk dung
Floor busy with fringe cup, starflower, and cleavers,
All pushing out and upward seeking the light

My four-legged companion leads the way
nose and tail busy
Often taking a route I have not chosen
For his way is not mine
I do not care to smell every blade of grass

At a Y in the path I stop
stunned by the enormity of what stands there,
arm-span wide,
Dark, with thick coat of green moss
Face to face with true giant of the woods
A mighty Douglas fir

OH, if it could tell me what it’s seen
Of rumblings, upheaval, and ice
But, more likely, it would say

“WHO are you – who disturbs my peace,

fouls my air, tramples my bed?
Your kind has broken my limbs, destroyed my canopy,

fallen my brothers, ripped out their roots.

I am wise in the ways of the wood
And so I remain silent, let you pass,
but I know and do not forget
In the hope you will learn

See, I point the way, that you might discover

The wonders, the unfathomable – and ask yourself:

‘WHO AM I

To think I am in charge

      Of All that lives here?’”

I gather my senses, tiptoe around, 

Humbled by the thought

Around me the earth greens intensely and offers itself
For all to experience and know
May we do so with care…

Ahead, the trail widens
Guarded by upright tall ferns
Lush with newly uncurled fronds
Light breaks through
Divulging trunks and fallen logs
Rife with fungi and tangled lichens
Aglow with small flowers shining through.

I follow the wagging tail to a log
Sit down on mossy cushion
Breathe in deeply
Steeped in the solitude
High above, a crow harshly calls
Somewhere below, a robin scolds back

At my feet, a large yellow slug
The color of dried mustard
Glides smoothly over the duff.
My companion begs to move on
More blades of grass await him

I stand and stretch, turn to go
Ahead lies a larger patch of light,
The road, and our way back
As we emerge from the dim stillness
Only two words come to mind
as I turn back to look 

A whispered “THANK YOU”…


“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind." ~ Job 12:7-10