I was remembering a place I lived where five pines were set in the pattern of a pentagram, a star. When I stood in the center of these woods, the center of this pentagram, I felt the awareness of some magic unspoken yet given without any asking. Now, I let my imagination take me there in the honor of what remains and is yet to unfold.
There’s a hallow in the woods
Of white pines and needles
Of sticky sap and cones
Made for quiet in the ritual
of how the nature of things
needs the sacred prayer inside and out
The way in is not made difficult
No treachery found on this path
Of this forest that shelters her creatures
Beneath the moss to the steepled branches
All hailed up to heaven in winged flight
Take in the inhale in the imagine of trees
Not all have the woods to retreat to
In the minds eye any Path can be made
To the vast anywhere, in the anytime of it.
Made sacred for the intent holy in the hallows
Be contemplative from the hearts call
In the meditative center of how green and sky
Bark and twig messages you to the center
In the ritual of how the nature of nature
needs your prayers inside and out for healing