A Fork In The Path

The following poem comes from a walk I took this morning in a forest near my house. I had gone for a walk to clear my head and to get out of the house, away from my wife and child (who I, of course, love very much), as COVID-19 is taking its toll on my psyche.

What I experienced and came to realize while walking alone in the woods were two profound truths:

1. Nature is unceasing. It ebbs and flows, and is eternal. It has seasons of life and death. It possesses mysteries we are still struggling to unravel. The Earth is in constant flux, an entropic momentum. We are all part of this system, whether we are conscious of it or not.
2. Human understanding of time and our place in Nature, are woefully lacking. We can’t appreciate a decade, let alone a century or millennia. We are, fundamentally, impatient creatures. It’s as if we know our time is finite — as individuals and as a species — and we are rushing to achieve as much as possible before ‘our time is up’. Oblivious to the subtle changes around us, the cycles of life, and the interconnectedness of everything, we are lost in a world we think we control, and sadly, destroying the planet we depend upon for life (including our own) in the process.

Against the backdrop of social isolation and the need for human interaction, we are all looking for meaning in this time of utter confusion. No one has the answers. But if we listen and look, Nature is teaching us something about itself and ourselves.

Nature’s Symphony

I am surrounded by death
Yet life speaks
Through my eyes and ears.

Aging trees creek in the wind
Welcoming the coming spring
The season of hope.

Thick, desiccated skin
Encase the hollow core
Of a fallen one.

Some stand still
Motionless and lifeless
Brittle limbs extending to the sky.

Greens intermingle with greys
Colourful buds emerge
From last year’s detritus.

Robins flit amid the branches
Seeing and knowing more
Than we can imagine.

Strangers pass me by
Crossing deserted streets
To avoid my gaze.

Scowling, distrustful faces
Turn away with a profound
Distaste for smiles.

Empty subways run
Over bridges above me
Disembowelled but moving.

Masked drivers
Escaping their homes
Rush around the city.

Shops are shuttered
Temples sit empty
Their congregants silent.

I listen and see.
A bystander to
Nature’s symphony.

April 10, 2020 (Good Friday)