The Death of Beauty

There is a sad, humbling peace
beneath the soft pain of realizing
I am as helpless as the trees
to prevent the age old forests
from being torn down in one day
for the filth stained greed that
most others foolishly believe
is a benefit to my species
but we are not the same breed
I am just another animal
left homeless in the wreckage
forced to watch the endless rape
of our most holy mother earth
as I tremble with the reeds
bearing witness to the pain
pulsating through all of nature
is the only gesture I can offer
to lie down alongside
my fellow woodland creatures
beneath the brutal, blood-soaked
wheels of industry as we watch
the death of beauty
the end of everything

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Manifest

Early morning cracks us open
a plump, orange yolk perched upon
the rolling expanse of open acres
the symphony of dawn begins 
beneath a veil of cool, dissipating mist

The earth awakens and unfurls in an instant
with interwoven, simultaneous, upbeat bustling
as hundreds of intricate beings of all sizes emerge
to dutifully begin their humble daily tasks
unwittingly weaving the world together for one another

The swollen present swallows us completely
enveloped in the electric energy currents of pulsating life
rushing through creek beds and rustling vibrant leaves
a soothing, faithful hum that echoes inside and out
intoxicated by the sweet nectar of undulating harmony

Each moment overflowing with the simple joy of right now
lapping up the soft waters of where we belong
indistinguishable elements of the intricate, lush landscape
synchronizing ourselves to the cadence of all creation
every instant ripe with it's own inherent meaning 

Morning Commute

Forests that spent
hundreds of years flourishing
are flattened in a single day

Construction sounds
that keep me up at night
from the new fracking site

I can't bear to crest another hill
and see a desolate dirt pile where 
there was once a green sea of leaves

Cranes have pushed out the animals
that once inhabited the dense forest
barren landscapes replace all life

Human destruction is so much faster
than mother nature's graceful hands
exponential progression toward the end

West Virginia

There is no heaven I'd rather have
than the deep forests of West Virginia
Mother Nature manifested in
lush, rustling hillsides filled with life

My own soul disguised in blushing red and gold
and the dark, faithful hues of evergreens
a swelling awe that overwhelms the senses
and speaks to the divine seed inside us all

Burning billion year old lights engulf the sky every night
humbled and held in the vastness of this existence
how could I ever leave this perfect, peaceful pocket?
what more could I ask for than this majesty?

Winding roads I know so well
echo with all the heartbreak I've hurled
into the mountains to be absorbed
and transformed into new song

The very best parts of me are interwoven
into the dark earth and dirty rivers
profound connection can be felt
in every glance outside my window

Home has never been a house with four walls
it is here among the dense, ancient trees
that tower all around me and offer shelter
from the harsh realities of human life

I am so grateful that I am able
to intimately know this earth of mine
and recognize its soft, subtle sighs
as I allow her wind and water to carve into me

Take Your Medicine

Silence is the medicine
so desperately needed
in a deafening world of noise
the earth is always waiting
with gentle tea leave tonics
to soothe an aching heart
rough, strong branches
to support your tired limbs
soft, sweet smelling grasses
to cradle a head made heavy
with over stimulation
invite in the fearful feeling
that rises suddenly inside
at the thought of slowing down
prove to yourself
that the world keeps spinning
when you completely stop
rest is the only remedy
that can refill an empty cup
taking a break seems impossible
when you need it most of all
this is your permission slip
to settle into stillness
and reconnect with
the almighty ebb and flow
of ever-present earth energy
pulsating beneath your feet
you deserve to take deep breaths
and sprinkle your days with
compassionate commas
and plump, perfect pauses

Patriot

Despite it all
I still love this country
not the people or the
putrid institutions or the
racist men who impose them

I love the land that spreads
beneath my feet from
sea to shining sea
the majesty of the earth
and all her creatures

I'm proud of our prairies
not the president
I praise the coastlines
not the constitution
written for rich white men

The expansive flowing fields
the splendor of the snow capped mountains
the acres of old growth forests
the vast diversity of lifeforms
that flourish here under blue skies

I won't stand to salute a flag
or die for a monstrous lie
but I kneel in awe before the earth
and count the blessings bestowed
upon me by her beauty

Worthy of Worship

The healing caress of the natural world
is crowded out by skyscrapers and cement
the hum of rubber wheels on the highway
distracts from the mountains rising in the distance

A humbling sensation, a separation from ego
each time I open my backdoor to be once again
engulfed in the cooling exhale of green leaves
being reabsorbed into the breathing earth

How many millions are out there 
left untouched by this indefinable majesty
a terminal separation from divine source
crammed between steel beams

Reduced to fingering picture book images
of the places meant to be intimately known
the unbridled angst that bubbles beneath a species
ignorant of the scent of the rain hitting dry soil

Buying the lie that we've sold to ourselves of
not needed, even avoiding, this sacred connection
cut off from the great spirit we placed
on a shelf alongside philosophy books

The only God I know is right here within the
shifting forms of this forest teeming with life
I pray to the rolling clouds themselves
not some undetermined dimension beyond them

We preach about the fall from grace while simultaneously
recreating our exile from the garden every day
placing money in a bowl to praise a God
we rip up by the roots for the paper it's printed on

I don't have to wonder if a higher power hears my prayers
they are answered in each sunrise and every crashing wave
responses carried back to me on the evening breeze
a perfect goddess dressed in green outside my window

Little Moments

I used to think the little things
were not enough to fill me up
fear seems so much larger and closer
than the morning sun
perched on treetops

but now I know how to see it
how to bundle up all those little moments
like so many love notes from the universe
and boil them down to make a balm
that heals and fortifies the restless soul

I know how to let the little moments in
I've seen them shrink those fears
lightening the load of a heavy, hurting heart
don't underestimate the power
of fresh cut grass and spring showers

the world offers refuge
for all those who seek it
transcribed into bird songs,
babbling brooks, and the rustling
of newly budded leaves

the irony of life
is overlooking what we need
straining our necks to see the big picture
without savoring the safety found
in stillness and simplicity

when the world gets too large
you can find me with the small things
wrapped in morning dewdrops
dissolving my self into intricate
mosaics of green

Rebirth

Bring me back to the sun
to the smell of damp soil
to the rising dust of a dry earth
as the sudden summer rain begins
pelting it with lush droplets
let me refill my cup
with the sweet nectar of fresh life
with the soft rhythmic sounds
of the land as it wakes again
let me wake along with it
let me rediscover the light
that has long been lost from me
to surrender to the smooth air
heavy with the perfume
of so many plump blossoms
the vastness of nature
has space for my cramped sorrow
inviting me to offer up
all my private pain
to lick my wounds
alongside shimmering streams
and to pour out my heart
to the healing light of the moon

The River

“Oh, the river!…I know it’s like me…I know that I belong to it. I know that it’s the natural company of such as I am! It comes from country places, where there once was no harm in it—and it creeps through the dismal streets, defiled and miserable—and it goes away, like my life, to a great sea, that is always troubled—and I feel that I must go with it!”

Charles Dickens – David Copperfield

There has always been something about large natural bodies of water that calm the restless turmoil within my soul. When I stare out at the gentle, undulating movement of the rivers and seas, a stillness settles over me. All of my life I have found refuge alongside the riverbank. The wretched, polluted waters have become a part of me over the years as I’ve poured endless tears out into them, and refilled my own cup with their timeless wisdom.

I too know that I belong to the river. It is like me. We are intertwined in a sacred, ancient union. I can feel it calling to me – and I too must go with it. I offer up to it all of my regrets, all of my fears, all of my sorrow. I let it carry them all away to become tiny specs in the vastness of the sea. I listen to it’s soft hiss, ever so slowly smoothing the rocks along the shore. I come to the banks to be smoothed just the same, to blunt my jagged edges and have my troubles tumbled into soft sand.

How many times have I found myself here, asking it’s sage advice? How many times have I been comforted by these dark, whispering waters? How many secrets have we shared in all these years together? When did it first begin to feel like coming home as I found my way into its profound presence? How could I possibly hope to explain this connection, this gratitude for the spirit of the earth and eternity lingering in these waters?

What a comfort and a joy it has been to have such a constant companion. This flowing life force has carried me through every stage of my life. I know that I can always rely on the river to bring me back to myself, to remind me that everything is okay. Not a single moment I’ve gazed at the river has it been the same water. Not a single moment have I been the same as the moment before. We are both eternally shifting and changing, flowing and forming into something new. Yet, somehow we are still each considered a consistent entity, something concrete and tangible. So different yet so similar.

The river is my reminder. It is an opportunity to stop and listen to the universe as it endlessly unfolds, a perpetual mystery, a beautiful, unknowable absurdity. A chance to surrender to the unstoppable flow of life and existence. A confirmation in my soul that we are all one, as I gaze at my distorted reflection bobbing happily in the rough waves, wondering where we began, and where, someday, we’ll end.