Amongst the moss-covered, ag-ed trees,
Life brims over.
On hairy log, sit I
Spying shoots and seedlings
Around my feet, scrambling for space to grow.
Leaves from last autumn still lie on the ground:
Softer with insect-ridden holes;
Nibbled and pressed down
By the creatures that stalk the woods at night.
Amongst the twigs; sticks, permeating the soil,
Is the fungi; the bacteria;
The minutiae so needed, so alive:
Feeding the rich, brown soil.
Scattered with fine roots;
Dying wood; plant and animal debris;
And the moss spreads like a cloak
Across it all.
Branches bravely lean over the brook,
Thirstly drinking of the sweet, clear, coolness:
Seeking patches of shimmering sunlight.
The crystal water crashes over rocks
So established they hold time in their hearts.
The liquid energy’s movements are tangible;
Powerful; fresh; loud.
I am in the V of a steep valley
Held together by strong, interwoven giants.
Some of whom have fallen
and lie across or under their brothers and sisters:
Making homes for the small and fragile:
Even in their death, these fallen kings
and queens create life.
I breath it in: oxygenated, softer –
But a passing shadow in this
@Maxine Bell 2020
Sitting there today in that vibrant place I was also reminded if we don’t change the way we live these first waves of climate change will cascade to extremes and we will live in a world so warmed much of it will turn to desert. There will be forest dieback and vast fires everywhere. This brook may dry up and with it the life it supports: anything green will be more precious and rare. We are already having far more weather extremes than is ‘natural’ and is rarely on the news. We must move our eyes, and more importantly our hearts and souls to higher things than greed and ‘comfort.’
Love and Truth hold hands.