in the woods

gentle consistent
crash of water on rocks,
sun moving the shade
through the pines,
the silhouette of a chipmunk
dashes across the stream bank,
wind dances trees.
this place needs nothing from me.
offers only itself.
i’m here running from the place
that needs everything.
i’m afraid of being stripped dry,
lost,
unprepared,
not up to the task.
here i am held.
this glen is willing to shelter me –
but my work is in the other world,
the human world.
the place that scares me,
that needs me.
this patch of trees is only
a resting point
a brief sojourn to the wilds.
that other place calls me
and i am learning
to call it home.

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