Serenade of the trees

Wedgewood Park Afternoon

Wedgewood Park Afternoon

Through all my youth I didn’t learn the language of the trees

I couldn’t hear the words to the poetic songs they would sing for me

When I became still enough to listen to the music of the earth

I learned of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.

What I didn’t know, while true to my childish indiscretions,

were the many truths I’d learned from them, the many rough hewn lessons.

My roots ran deeply through rocky soil, building bridges of emotional gaps

My branches raised up high with deep green leaves fed by spirit’s sap

I was taught the ancient tongues of the oak, elm, maple, birch,

embraced in laughing drumming beats the circumference of my worth

I am a child of the forests, although youth I can no longer claim

I will honor my tree kin’s body; their face; until the earth embraces me again.

Between the Worlds

A Snow Owl

A Snow Owl

I wander along in blues of sparkling seas

I witness a sail in the distance waving at me

I place hand over eyes in familiar stance

I wave back with my hips, a shift of my dance.

The forest closes in with a crackle of leaves

I’m not afraid, it’s welcoming me

The music turns up with bird songs and buzzies

The brook tells a joke that gives me warm fuzzies.

In a blink of an eye, my feet hit the sand

the painted desert that smells like Christmas is where I am

A solar flare singes my skin hot and prickly

but pain is small price when one lives this richly

A single leap, a precarious bound

I’m traveling highways, heeding the sound

of the zephyrs of change as they dervish round

Should I see you as I move, ever by the winds tug

You may not know my face, but you’ll know me by hug.