Spruce at Dawn

Spruce towers

over weeping hemlock

balsam and pine.

Pale peach clouds

paint the sky circling

 fringed spires.


our first cathedrals… 

Some still gather

under these boughs.

Her Voice 

is being Silenced.

The Spirit of

the Forest


 Slaughtered trees cry.

‘There’s nothing to be done.

One far –away day

 we will live again’.


Rapacious greed,


eclipse the Numinous

as mighty machines roar.

The spruce sat in the center of the (unremarkable) picture I thought I took of blushing clouds. Peering at the photo I heard the trees’ lament – one spruce reaching for the stars spoke for them all – so many slain – fertile earth uprooted.

Once this Forest gifted me with a home; filled my life with meaning…I still find solace here, but the Soul of the Earth is weeping.

Acceptance is all that’s left I am told.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s