Big Cedar Trail
Here I am, having come upon a place
deep enough to lose myself,
among emerald bouquets of Sword fern
thriving in the damp, dim light
as far as the
I can see. As the I can see – there it is again,
that stubborn “I”
but it’s loosening,
almost gone into the breath
of this verdant ravine
where redcedar soars, roots, spreads, and sits
as still and profound as two in the morning.
Just this, redcedar whispers.
Cool breeze scatters leaves
from an unseen place – the top of the hill?
The jagged black edge of the island? Or
do the wafting breaths emanate from
sixty miles east of here, over the dark Salish Sea?
Here, now, air manifests:
gentle waves of cedar boughs,
fluttering tips of elderberry leaves and prickly
bumps on the freckled skin of my old arms.
Mind focuses and releases in waves
like the the darting chipmunk
who was breathlessly still
a second ago. Moving then still,
in breath and out,
back and forth,
we are centered in this particular herenow
at the bottom of the green ravine
where the I loosens and
joins the forest.