I am the keeper here.

I watch this place.

I witness.

I see into its future

Not clearly bc the future is seldom clear

But it has shades I can interpret.

It is hard being the one who sees.

Who can connect what may not at first seem connected.

To the the glory of how it fits together

And the horror of how easily it can fall apart.

To watch the fern unfurl its leaf.

The slow soft growth of moss to its fruiting body .

The coolness of the breeze before the storm.

The violence of the lightning and rain.

Allowing myself to become this place.

To be its voice.

To speak for what cannot know words

But is trying to tell us just the same.