Walking Alone In The Forest


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There are many I am sure who will think I am crazy for this, but I find myself missing my home in Canada the most in the winter. Once the cold sets in my mind starts roaming through pine forests, over frozen lakes, down silent streets clotted with thick, beautiful, deadly snow. I don’t know why this is, however it is what lead me to write this new piece. I have many memories of walking alone through snow clad woods, deep and silent, perfectly alone and feeling both tremendous peace but also a profound sense of smallness that I have always carried with me and I think it does lend a particular kind of perspective. This poem is a sort of meditation on these thoughts and I think it came together nicely. Perhaps it will find a home out there in one of you, my loyal and patient readers. Cheers all, and keep warm, it’s cold out there.

Blue sky peeps through deep, glossy green
Small stained glass windows piercing shafts of soft light
Boots crunching snow echoes
The only sound breaking reverent silence
Earth wrapped snug slumbering under white coverlet
Pillars of solemn pine and fir
Marching endless halls of resin and pitch scented dimness
Dreaming long, slow, ancient, deep
Humbling any lowly supplicant,
Intruder upon such holy ground
Alien and unnecessary, small, dwarfed
Only now made fully, completely aware how infinitesimal and inconsequential a single drop is
Within the dissolution of vast oceans
As realization dawns that in passing you will leave no mark more permanent
Than the swift dimpling of the rain lost in the roil of tides upon the breast of the sea.

A pilgrimage should be made
All of us made to walk alone
Within these majestic cathedrals of water and stone, these temples of life eternally independent of any hand,
Reminders if what it is to be small
Huddled around the ancestral fires at the mouths of caves
Weaving stories to fill the formless night beyond the flickering light’s reach
Giving shape to a fear we have forgotten
Yet need desperately to remember
To relearn our impermanence,
Recalling that our blood and bones
Are only sacrificial offerings
They will become tangled and sucked by the roots digging deep into the black earth
If you enter, you will carry this always in a corner of your heart,
This fragment of desolation both horrible and wondrous
Walking through deep woods in the winter.

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7 Responses to “Walking Alone In The Forest”

  1. a worthy tribute

  2. cousin jacque de pines Says:

    two things:
    – a few tiny slivers sticking out; re-read with reading glasses
    – can images be included in comments?

    • I am not entirely sure if images can be posted in the comment section. I will hazard that they probably cannot be due to the fact that I am limited in how much memory I can use adding media to the blog itself. You may be able to post a link if you upload pics to the web in some fashion.

  3. jacques du nord Says:

    sorry ’bout the blue sky – playing hard to get up here

  4. from the dark winter woods Says:

    dam write

  5. walked the hallowed ground today
    listened to the north wind
    it brings the message south
    your presence is remembered

  6. Even in the deep cold, a trip through the forest is wonderful.
    Season’s wishes for your health and happiness.

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