An invisible rod of some kind
pokes me in the ribs as a voice
I haven’t heard in ages commands
Get up! Get out!
It was She who must be Obeyed.
So I tied on my leather boots,
pulled on my thick jacket, my hat,
grabbed extra batteries and the camera
and got out. I knew why she had come.
(The knowing simply appeared.)
It was time to remember that winter
brings the opportunity to see
what’s here to see, now and only now.
Put everything else aside. See.
Be here, in these woods.
My boots walk on blankets of pine.
I notice crystallized sap on the bark of the tree,
the vine, green even in winter, climbing
up its side, the whole thing complete
and perfect. Amen, I whisper.
Hallelujah, amen.