Sitting by a creek inside a forest
Your notebooks spread out
Over stones and ferns
Sounds of tiny waterfalls accompany your thoughts
The dimension of your existence opens before you
Oneness of spirit, wholeness one song.
On the porch, one day
Someone leaves a small heart-shape wood carving,
Another day, a sketch of fiddleheads
Or a haiku
Kindness from unknown neighbors
Who will later introduced themselves
Retreat in the woods
Finding new friends threaded with similar
Attitude of solitariness
Learning how to be present
In the moment, to attend
Slowing of time
A time to feel and touch the earth again
With its ecstasy and pain.
edgarone2
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