A Morning Meeting

I step into the wood an intruder upon this place that was peace until I penetrate it. The jay sounds alarm exclaiming my interruption. The deer I only can hear as they make their escape as I take their quiet. Quail in the distance take whirl and leave. I continue seeking peace at the spring, alone. I hold a stillness in walls the creek has carved that is not mine to comfort. The redwoods stand as silent sentinels, as their creek washed and exposed roots reveal a shallow journey.

Ripples dance on the spring's face, playing with light and the shadows of leaves that equally entertain my eye. Do I deserve such wonder after penetrating perfection? After an hour spent under shelter of these canopies I realize here I do belong. My inner landscape joins this outer.

Up ahead a mile or more I find another sky break by the water, where rays stream through meeting stream. Is what I feel deeply into my bones true? That I am loved by this place as I love it? I can't hold it, take it with me nor here it spoken in words but here it is always, waiting for me to feel it's warmth and it's chill, to listen, to witness and discover all that it is. Maybe that's how love always is.