Spring has filled in the once barren forest
and we witness the green waves rolling
toward the blue horizon.

Against an evening sunset
and blue backdrop a pair of ravens
circle, descend, and ascend a last time
before landing in pine trees beginning to green
as the last holds of winter give.

Clinging to limbs as the winds
arrive in gusts from across the lake
they call to others a few trees over
and we watch this conversation take place.

That cabin in the woods,
nestled beneath second generation pine
planted after the last logging,
waits for our visit.

Snow caught in tree-tops
meanders through the winter sky
covering the green roof in a smooth
slope where acorns speed to the ground.

Ravens ever present toward the open fields,
near the old silo base, they rule the open sky
with acrobatics and voices blanketing
the otherwise quiet space.

The nest in the overhang now empty.
Somewhere deep in the woods they watch
with caution and curiosity as the dogs
run circles around that cabin in the woods.

For now I am the winter
beneath the mask
revealed beneath the
cold water of the sea.

Eyes open to the sky
above the surface
breath held as snow begins.

For now I am the winter
overtaking the autumn
slowing rivers and lakes
the graying sky swallows the sun.

For now I am the winter
beneath tall trees
releasing snow and ice
as they bow toward the earth.

Emerging from the trees shadow
I stopped moving,
looked up at the winter sky
and finally breathed, inhaling
this world, this scene, and exhaled
what has been holding me back,
what has become the burdens I carry.

Today I became the winter.

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.

Stopping at the green gate and the snow covered driveway, the pine trees embrace the winter sky and the morning light, shadows reach across the space between tree trunks.

Too much Time has passed since the last visit and the space feels foreign. While I remember the name of each tree, I hope the ravens remember me as they circle nearly out of sight, their call still echoes through the forest, the only other voice heard above the winds’ song.

Packed snow crunches with each step. Brown pine needles blanket the white surface, untouched except the many deer tails weaving through the trees, reaching beyond what I can see.

The sun’s intensity warms tired bones and muscles. The wind directs eyes up as the treetops sway against the cloud-free winter blue.

Each breath tastes of nature. Each breath brings me back. Each breath brings me closer to a chance meeting with god.

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The path through the
heavy pine and white fog
will become the destination
you choose.

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Waiting patiently for the first snow.

Just like a child with face pressed
against the cold window pane and as
soon as the first flake lands silently
in the grass, they call grandma.

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The autumn sky wraps blue fingers
around the tall pine trees and in
this embrace we watch the story unfold.

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