Reflections in the Rain

Exploring the northern forest

To the music of spring rain falling,

Tapping on leaves, on my hood,

A complex universal rhythm that

Creates concentric circular geometry

On the lake’s surface

Dead reddy- brown pine needles

Decorate the forest floor and

Complement the new buds and

bright spring-green leaves.

Last year’s cattails dry brown

Interrupted by emerging green shoots,

Inspire me to let the old go

And let the new grow.

I ask the rain to wash away

The old, whatever that is

And to nurture the new

Whatever that may be.

The spongy forest floor of

Years and seasons of pine needles

Softly cushions my steps.

Gravity sinks me down

And the forest pushes me up

Encouraging me to proceed.

It is my birthday

and my birth mother is long gone.

Now every spongy step becomes

A reciprocal relationship

With my mother the Earth.

At times my partner and I

Climb up the wet bedrock

And carefully step between

Pine roots looking like the

Veins on the back of my hand

As they cling to the rocky earth.

I feel grounded and rooted

Solid, here on my home.

We are warm and dry

in our raincoats, rain pants and boots

And happy to be outside.

We hear voices behind us

and a dog, a black and white spaniel

Appears on the path behind us.

It happily escorts me along the trail

And I remember the joy

Of walking with my dogs in the fields

Of the farm. now all gone.

The perfect birthday gift brings

Tears that become one

With the raindrops on my face.

We carefully watch for the

Worn path, the blazed trail.

We consult the map

And then take detours

To avoid waterpools on the trail

And I think about my own path

In this new year of my life.

I resolve to find paths that nurture me,

And to create new ones when

The way is unsound.

Yet I walk over a rickety wooden plank

To cross a stream

Unwilling to avoid all risks.

And because it is day one

Of a my own new year,

I choose to believe

That I will be nurtured,

Protected and accompanied

As I venture forth.