A poem read in the woods from The Woods.

Perhaps I am becoming a part of these woods.
My words its voice.
My heartbeat in sync with its.

It is a strange place to be sure.
I hear the chattering of its birds.
The caw of the crow answered by the tweak of the jay.
An improvisation. Call and response.

It seems it is just so.

And I have lived here.
Been here all along.
A shadow thing.
With its silent song.
Yearning.
Watching.
Being Watched.
Not always sure I belonged.
But awkwardly I’ll come along.

A window to a secret place.
Where time unwinds and does erase.
In a wonder undoes space.

I am here now.
And yet I am not.

A part of its web
This fragile thread
A part and yet apart.

It is enough to not understand.
Lay down and be absolved
Of all the things and paths of past.

Lay down and be dissolved
Into the woods at long last.

This is about getting in touch with a deeper sense of time. Tree time.

I am a bit behind here, recounting the poems from the book.

What I am loving about the library (Playlist ) of YouTube videos I am creating is that it creates little snapshots of my personal woods for you. And we are following those changes over the course of the winter as I read the poems. Which is reminiscent of the livestream in a way, where there was just a slow meditation of the changes in the woods over time.

And a little reminder these dark and foreboding days “January ain’t the whole world”