Ode to the Aspens
Glistening like candles they dance around me
Who am I to be among such a holy performance?
Broken beams of light shatter into shards at my feet
with purpose but without direction.
The crunching of leaves beneath me echoes through the forest
and is silenced by the low chorus of rising wind.
The dry smell of autumn fills my nose as a bee buzzes by.
From my mouth, I exhale the last of my worldly thoughts.
My softworn palm grasps the chalky skin of an elder in the grove.
The mighty Aspen, humbly carrying the weight of gravity
a long and simple life of purity, connected by roots to one another.
Embracing the coming winter with celebration and sacrifice, their leaves twirl to the ground.
How deep is an Aspen’s indifference for the bald creature at its trunk?
A strange primate indeed, I am
My blood-filled heart pumps with love and admiration for these tall trees
For they speak to me, the only truth I have ever known
Blissful, crushing, overwhelming, and humbling
I collapse in respect
