Here in the forest tangle,
Rises humid air— protection
Buffers against the summer heat.
All seems quiet in faint yet heavy breeze
Except birds who speak in song.
I wonder if the trees appreciate
Their shade, the far reach of limbs,
Slow growth of nuts and fruits they give.
Somewhere deep inside hot jungle
Lies a sermon that I fail to grasp.
Words are unwelcome here.
The squirrels that spring from tree to tree
Pause to rest, observe— their little hands
Held in position as though in prayer.
Can you feel living Mystery here?
Sun above is rising higher,
Old buttery fingers reaching out,
Stretching to embrace the whole of Earth.
Underneath its power, I can only offer
Witness to the wonder now unfolding—
Necessary pain leads to letting go,
Slow growth and ever-present change.
The birds have flown away
To some grand adventure for the day.
Boldly, I stand and go to join them.