Holding up the sky as

morning settles into the fields.

We pass beneath the ancient canopy

and quietly fall into its shadows.

Mountains cast their shadows across my face
as the distant river fills the canyon
heading toward the sea.

The path these feet follow,
paved years before by faces
I do not know, yet I feel
their presence and hear voices
scattered to the ancient wind.

If I peeled away the layers
of each universe
would I ever find you buried
within the stardust?

adventure cold conifers evening
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

 

Thoughts and memories buried deep
in our minds originating from time so long ago
and across vast distances we become lost in the
numbers and mathematics, but the light and energy
is seared and imprinted like a birthmark of unknown origin.

And we may not know or discover this deep knowledge and history
until some external stimuli, perhaps a sight, a smell, or music, burrows
into the locked portals and brings to light the shadows grounding
our origins to this place and beyond.

The boundary between the empty field
and the old pine forest

transports me from the confines of my mind
into the ancient memories of childhood.

Walking between the giants,
they hold up the sky

as I listen to each one
and feel the warmth rising from the earth.

They were here before me
and they will stand above me when

the final day of the this life arrives
and I prepare for the next.

When my mind becomes scattered,
when each of the thoughts I held
in my core is lost to the wind,
I seek out answers and resolutions
from the natural world.

On mornings when the grey sky
covers the sun and the forest
lives in its own green exterior,
the cold air lays upon the skin,
and you know that rain is near.

Each drop a fragment of some
larger being or existence beyond
this world and my body reacts to the cold
by reassembling the core and bringing
this being back into a whole form.

Across the salted plains
We watch the sun fall
The moon rise
The machines sleep.

In dreams spaced by 100 years
I see you on the highest peak
Of the homeland we once
Ruled together.

I woke in the snow blanketed forest
Facing the morning sky.

Tenants of dreams fill each fiber and neuron,
I can only piece together that I was not made for this world.

I lost direction when the void
Overtook my body and my mind
Accelerating through space
Toward unexplored, unknown, and untouched worlds.

Where is our home now?

Above photo from: Nancy Chuang

There is something dramatic and something many times larger than us. What surrounds and embraces us with reluctance because we are there within its midst.

The thrill of venturing into unknown and undiscovered lands, into unnamed glaciers, lakes with undisturbed shorelines, trails and elevations unknown to maps, lives within us. I desire to truly experience wilderness, the way the scene unfolded before God’s eyes and the final touch of a masterpiece, with unfettered air breathed when emerging from primitive shelters, built by hand from what the land offered and gave to them. Where does this experience lie in our time? Is there some far away land, hidden under tussocks fed by glacial streams, within a mountain’s shadow? Who or what holds this experience secret, and pristine? Does it even exist anymore? It might remain an elusive chase and game, an experience we live and die by in our dreams, the end game we pour our heart and soul into.

Why do we chase that experience so close to our fingertips, yet the feeling, the tingle, so elusive? What is encoded into our bodies and our DNA?

What is the most pure, and at the same time, most simple experience we as humans, can learn from? It is time spent alone, with your hands as survival tools, sustenance found while roaming the free land, water down the hill at the creek, ripe berries dangling in the morning sun reflecting dew, fallen trees and dried bush to make the evening’s fire.

The cold water lifted from the high-tide runs through the clenched fist. The eastern wind passes through the outstretched arms and fingertips. The ancient trees reach for the sky with entrenched roots that have withstood time, storms, and worse, human intervention. What all of these elements have in common is their resilience and ability to thrive without humans, and the unfortunate consequence of dying at our hands.

Who is to adopt and change in this sometimes toxic relationship?

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