A walk in Black Rock Forest. Green, green, lush green. A perfect afternoon. Sunlight filtering through the tulip trees…ahhhh…the wild BLUEBERRIES are ripening…amazing!
LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made the place around you.
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
– DAVID WAGGONER –
As lovely as this poem is, I did not write it. It was written by another author with the same name.
David Waggoner, PhD
http://www.extremethinkover.com
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