The trees speak to me.
The wind shows its careless strength.
I long to sink into these ever more deeply,
to rest in the trees, the wind, the dirt and moss, the snow.
To be restored.
Then, to return, truly myself and free —
finally, knowing my heart.
Rest now in the Sun, the wind, the waves,
the wildness of the tree that
is rooted precisely where the seed fell from the parent.
Rest in the wildness of the fox
that finds its territory and says,
This is enough.
Here is enough.
Now is enough.
All I have been given in this land!
I long to be free as the tree and fox,
to be exactly as I was made.
To be wild
and held
and whole
and wholly, unabashedly alive:
The human. This human.
Living at the intersection of human and Divine.