3/19/08 - Standing in a Tree

Ancient Cottonwood

Walking in the woods,
the ancient cottonwood called me by my name.
Beckoning me to stoop, then stand inside
her massive trunk
opened to the world
from years of slow decay.

Standing inside this mighty tree,
dark, hushed, warm;
the musty smell of moist wood
filling every pore,
I was a part of the forest.
No longer a distracted hiker
walking alone in the woods.

Closing my eyes,
a deep sigh passed my lips
in this utterly safe place.

No matter what went on outside this strong tree,
inside was stillness,
a timeless alignment,
a place that could hold everything.