Lily of the Valley
Got lost in the forest with my mom yesterday.
It was a seemingly quiet day.
I don’t mind crying really.
First we climbed steep
Away from the valley
Into the forest
Followed this little path
Shaded, in the trees
Then a stone wall, low, mossy, crumbling.
We were pretty deep in
No phone that would help us orient.
We didn’t know we were lost
Yet.
It changed.
The forest became very mossy.
So much moss everywhere,
Hanging from each limb,
Of an old boxwood groove.
And covering —
Thick green padding
—the old stone wall.
Still very low.
Still alongside us.
On our right.
I cried a lot yesterday.
Waves, puffs of sadness
Rising.
Kept coming
And coming
Like orgasms
Over me
As hard to restrict as nature, or water.
The dam broken, water flowing.
I barely knew whom and what I grieved anymore.
(Jon)
My mom suggested I find a tree to hug.
We kept walking.
In the mossy landscape
Along the low stone wall
I saw it.
There was no mistake
He—was my tree.
Some trees reach higher,
Stand straighter.
He was owning the space around him,
commanding — a small clearing.
Of course
Approaching him,
I started crying again
It makes sense.
He knew.
No bullshitting such a tree.
On my cheek
His thick bark
Was soft like fur,
Green, and furry and mossy
My face
I leaned in
Cradled my neck on his trunk
And pressed his body, on mine
My mom suggested I remove my shoes too. —I didn’t
But she is awesome.
I love her.
Sometimes it takes a broken heart,
to to let more love in.
The tree feed me
and wiped my tears
We kept going.
Got so lost.
We turned
Guessed forks
Maybe right this time
Dead end.
Try the smaller path.
Hours walking
In the quiet of the forest
What do you do when you are lost in the forest?
Well, you keep walking —don’t you?
I guessed a valley.
Through the trees.
The sun was in the right direction again.
A few roofs? Through the canopies.
We found our path was leading us downwards, again,
Most likely towards a river-lined valley.
“ I think we are back on the path we started on”, I said.
“ No way” my mom replied. “We must be on the other side of the forest by now”.
“Look!” I said.
“The Lilies of the Valley“
We were right back were we started.
The same cows
Saw up emerge this time
Where the forest meets the prairie.
Same old stone bridge.
The same, but transformed.
If I can just
for a second
Hold as still as the tree
I can see
That everything beautiful and meaningful is already in place
and growing — quietly.
If Jon didn’t freak out,
I wouldn’t have cried
With mom,
Allowing her to show up,
To allow my tears — this time.
Allowing us to get closer
Allowing me
To allow it —getting closer.
This time.
We went out that day
Looking for the Lily of the Valley patch
That grows
At the hedge of the forest.
