Walking through my neighborhood, I notice the earth scattered with fallen trees, leaves, and acorns. Organized by wind, rain, and birds, these quietly magnificent story keepers. I am grateful for the gifts of life they provide and the mutuality of our existence.
First Breath
acorn descends
to forest floor
absorbs morning mist
—first breath of new tree
The Next Generation
On a recent walk
I came across
a vividly textured ecosystem:
old growth tree with furrowed bark,
lyrically climbing ivy,
and graceful grasses.
The moss-covered branch
that fell from the canopy
resembled a spiderweb.
Ancient cycles of decay and renewal
weave bonds of mutual well-being.
