Although I am, I do not feel alone.
I’ve climbed the trail to greet my welkin gods
and leave them tokens on the altar stone:
catalpa seeds inside a fresh, green pod,
a tender root of luscious Queen Anne Lace,
nine sprigs of lavender and goldenrod.
With arms outstretched, I lift my weathered face
to let warm sunlight touch me with its kiss.
I close my eyes and relish its embrace.
A songbird’s merry tune, “Kiwiss, kiwiss,”
expresses crystal notes of woodland sounds.
I thank it for unfettered thoughtfulness.
Where spirits dwell, serenity abounds
on hemlock-shaded isolated grounds.