Forest Symphony

i dream of an elaborate forest symphony,
its conductors the gods and goddesses of old,
        whom i now remember with praise and honor,
    ancestors who once walked these paths,
        and whose vigilance makes them safe for me still,
    spirits of the land, sea, and sky,
        who nurture and sustain the web of all creation;
its instruments the cloud-dappled sky,
    the strident call of a jay and the poetry of the songbirds,
    the persistent murmur of peeping frogs,
    the prowling of uncounted, delicate creatures about me,
    the smell of a luscious storm brewing,
    the breeze whispering damp secrets into my hair;
its chorus sung by diversely colored and shaped leaves,
    young and old branches, stretching toward the sun,
    stately, twining, twisted, and lightning-scarred trunks,
    sun-warmed, insect-haven, moss-covered bark,
    roots, tangled and snarled, drawn into the bowels
        of the earth to the nurturing waters beneath;
its driving subsonic bass, the earth’s rhythmic heartbeat.