I am writing in haste this morning before I depart to learn how to identify butterflies, their habitat and how to survey them here in wildish West Cavan. The topic for the Poetry Daily comes from the #30DaysOfSummerWritingChallenge – the wild wood. Immediately, images of my beloved local Cavan Burren Forest, with its trees, mushrooms, bilberries and glacial erratics came to mind.
Into the Wild Wood
I go out to meet all the tree people
to commune with god in their upturned limbs,
the canopy the greatest cathedral.
I go out to meet all the tree people
who are congregation, altar and pew,
their stillness reaching towards the eternal.
I go out to meet them to be prayerful,
the trees breathing both below and above,
the one organism, earthly, celestial.
I go out to meet my wild angel,
to explore its paradigm and its whim,
to go out and greet this old tribe, my people.
I go out to greet my ancient people
that die and live and grow for clues
how we wander borders of the eternal.
I go out to greet my fellow people
where wildness and peace are hand in glove
as one organism, one world, eternal.
Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.


