trees – Rivers Renewed

Choosing to Breathe This Way

Each step seemed to bring me closer to the secret realm, which really wasn’t a secret at all, simply unseen.

This path of peace, this chosen way of light wasn’t always easy,

what treasure is ever easy to find? Worthy,

embracing the forest and yet more

of who I am, was always worthy.

I will always choose to breathe,

this way

stepping lightly

into the realm

of wholeness again.

Autumn Meditation II

A warm light filled me, as I watched the sunlight dancing

in the maple tree.

God never spoke, and yet I knew

autumn was always meant,

to draw us closer.

The Sun Through the Trees

In the cleansing of the forest I would often search for my answers,

now I simply breathe in the peace,

having found my way,

grateful for the sun

through the trees.

In the Softness of the Light

To be honest, it was the softness of the light that surprised me, as God spoke through the trees.

And as if I had always known that voice my heart paused, I hesitated,

yet at least I was listening now,

in the silence.

Light Speaking

I once saw peace peeking through the willow tree, light speaking

clearly saying to hold on, to carry hope,

to keep courage,

close

to my heart.

Autumn Birds Leaving

A particular gentleness swayed

through the tops of the trees,

in a crisp cold air

whispering,

letting me know

the autumn birds

were leaving.

Autumn Memory

We were so in love My Love, we hardly noticed

the mountain wind moving us closer,

cheeks rosy,

holding each other,

your hair all over the place

our first autumn together,

with tree limbs swaying

while we fell in love.

First kiss memories.

The Silence of Trees

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Faded eagle dreams and faded jeans, combing grey hair, boots laced and a light weight camera,

the trails call, moving my spirit beyond crows, rejecting dark wings…I become the silence of trees, and wildflowers holding bees,

where light flickers through the canopy, I seek to know, as anyone could know, the Lord God,

like I did as a young man….

in a place that peace

calls home….

Winter Shadows

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In the shadows of winter, bark becomes prominent

in diffused light

the roughness of cold air,

with vague memories

of life lived in green

we pray for the life of the sun,

to be lifted again.

Acorns

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In the grey dawn, in this time of in between,

in the silent barreness

of our woods underground

bumble bees draw close,

and chipmunks remain silent,

praying for a blanket

of snow, and to remember

where their acorns

lay hidden.

Category: trees