Monday, April 20, 2015

Sacred Forest, Homage to the Mountain

If it was my personal ancestors
Whose footsteps came before mine
Here on this ground atop the mountain
I do not know about it

And yet I feel them here
All those whose breath still has faint traces
In the air I breathe
All whose weight upon the ground
Was light by choice
claiming little or nothing as theirs alone

I do not think of the ancestors as mine
Not my people and not your people
But we, and us, all who came before
If you go back far enough
you will find the ones we all share

I am not talking about some primal couple
But that certain couple whose act of love
made it possible for both you and me
to breathe this air

But let me still talk about the ground
This ground where I walk
This sacred ground made sacred because
I call it such
And you too may call it sacred
And you too many walk upon the moss and decadence
of fallen ferns and leaves converted
to reddish yellow and brown strands
filaments of mycelium

For this is the fabric of the sacred forest
Mycelium binding earth and plant, holding each and every
rooted living thing in place
forming the earth skin
Living skin of the sacred planet
Beneath all our feet

No comments:

Post a Comment