LOOSENING THE I

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.

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42 comments

  1. I’m always amazed at how some people can take words and through some magic weave them into poems such as you have written. And wonderful photos to accompany them. You made my morning because I had just been reading about the idea of having a closer relationship with what you photograph!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m reading this at dusk on my balcony. I look up from your ferns and cedar to watch one more murder of crows fly back east, as they do every night, to their roost in Burnaby. Ferns, cedar, crows… they dance to the pulse of nature, across all time.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The poetress sitting in the woods and the colors are all in her words here. Great poetry, dear Lynn, and its music reminds me of Louise GlΓΌck’s Wilde Iris. I love your playful juggling with the I, it doesn’t fall, even though you send it flying around making close contact to trees and air. If possible, please give us more of this.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You’re far too generous, Ule. thank you very much. As you know, the urge comes and goes, it can’t be forced or coaxed into existence.
      Oh, your idea of the I flying around, that’s wonderful! Have a great day, OK? πŸ˜‰

      Like

    • It’s a good feeling to stand next to the biggest trees. That one has a precipitous trail into a ravine, just so people can be with it – but so far it’s a very lightly traveled trail. I always like to circumambulate the big ones, pat them, and thank them. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Your photographs fit so well with your poetry. β™₯️ I love how you use black and white photos here. It shows more depth in them, especially with the tree photo. Your tree photo’s angle is excellent also, particularly with how you mention feeling a part of everything in the forest. You’ve done a really good job here. Thank you for sharing this. πŸ₯°

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Your poetry brought me to that place, Lynn. The stillness and the quiet of a nature bath. And then boom, the stunning black and whites that meld so perfectly with your words. The powerful tree to your quiet ferns- I’m there. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person


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