Wood Walking

 Feeling the call of the Woods today... 

Wood Walking

When you walk

the woods,

do so at their pace.

Not yours.

Pause before

you enter

their embrace,

and breathe deep.

Slow down to their

ancient pace

of root,

and

branch,

and

story.

Then,

with a bow,

enter;

and allow their

cathedral coolness

to enfold you,

and their greened light

to anoint you

with

sylvan sacrament

of stained glass

dappling;

and

your healing

will begin.

As over the craggy

bare nerves

of

your busyness,

and

sharp

exhaustion,

and

the rough edges

of your

broken heart,

a gentling of moss

will begin to

grow

as slowly as

blessing.

Feel their tallness

stretch you.

Their deep dark

womb you.

Their leaf,

and flower,

and nut,

circle you,

with knowing,

of a kind unknown to

fleeting minds and

restless hearted

humanity;

greening you to

wholeness again.

Passing into

their sanctuary,

stop;

and become

one

with them.

Let them teach you their

communion mystery;

their secret

homing of

rustling life that

feathered sings

and

furred shelters,

both

beneath,

and,

above.

Listen long

enough

and they will

teach you

their tongue:

words of wood,

and weather,

and water,

united in one

song of praise

that began

with the first

Divinely led

step

into

the dance of

inter-breathing

that you have

forgotten

how to sing

until now.

Sit your

tiredness

down

in the crook

of their

rooted gathering,

with your

back

trunked;

and let them be

your

spine,

just

for a while.

Your sap will

rise

with theirs

in the four-fold

benediction

of the

treed seasons

which

foreshadowed

their

glorious gifting

of their own element

to be

the rood throne

of

the Word

by whom

all is spoken.

Touching

their great slowness,

be reborn

of their wisdom

that promises,

for every Winter

a Spring,

and roots

deep enough

to outlast any

Summer drought

until Autumn’s coolness

comes.

When eventually

you rise from

their embrace,

stretch to the heavens

and breathe deep

of

their largesse,

while ground gripping

with toe tap-root.

Their knowing,

now with you

once again,

dusts you golden

like pollen falling

in the breeze.

Then bow deeply

to your elders

and fellow servants

and walk back

to your life

now luminous once again.

When you walk

the woods,

do so at their pace.

Not yours.