My colony of majestic oaks, graceful limbs
reaching upward, filling assigned spaces,
canopy of green and grey distributed evenly,
hands waving in gentle breeze
creating peaceful community.
Have you ever hugged a gentle giant?
Have you ever pressed your cheek and ear
against its scratchy hide,
waiting for whispers about times long past?
No longer on a leash, my child is released,
nobody but God watching,
he smiles when I hug a tree or
lie on my belly to smooch a lady slipper.
Holistic healing – cultivated mix of
curiosity, playfulness, humor.
On mountain summit or at ocean shore, I stand in awe.
Among my gentle friends, I stand in awe,
never tire of looking overhead, countless windows
of sunlit blue in day and starlit black at night,
faith nurturing as any sanctuary.
—by Ira Smith © 2009
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“Nature comes home to one most when he is at home;
the stranger and traveler finds her a stranger and traveler
also. One’s own landscape comes in time to be a sort of
outlying part of himself; he has sowed himself broadcast
upon it, and it reflects his own moods and feelings; he is
sensitive to the verge on the horizon: cut those trees, he
bleeds; mar those hills, and he suffers.”
from Signs and Seasons
— John Burroughs