Be honest with yourself….
When you walk in a path in the woods
How often do you notice the trees?
I mean, really look at each tree,
Not as though old oaks
Were a group of elderly people,
A crowd to be taken in as a grey whole,
But notice each individual tree?
How often do you look at singular leaf,
Notice the shade of its green?
Touch texture of bark?
Measure trunk’s height
In mind’s eye as you begin
Between tree and you an I-Thou?
Well, it happened to me yesterday
When I saw a face in the tree—
An old man who had been waiting
For years in the trunk,
Long hair growing into the bark,
Eyes wide open in surprise I could see,
Mouth gaping in silence as he looked at me.
What transpired is a secret,
A mysterious thing… wordless moment,
A tree-hug if you want to know the truth,
Scratch on the cheek for goodbye.
What would you have said?
What wood you have done?