Poems inspired by a Soul Walk in the Ruby & Elizabeth Cohen Woodlands
Colchester, Connecticut
June 19, 2024

“For each home ground we need new maps, living maps, stories and poems, photographs and paintings, essays and songs.  We need to know where we are, so that we may dwell in our place with a full heart.”
~Scott Russell Sanders, “Buckeye” in Old Growth: The best writing about trees from Orion magazine

I.
Meandering on the Red Trail—
mossy rocks and mud and mosquitoes,
a Downy Woodpecker hammering away,
lost in my thoughts
allowing myself to wander
because not all who wander are lost
after all.

An old, glorious tree makes me stop
in my tracks
on the trail.

The trunk of the old tree is bent
at an irregular angle:
like a shoulder awkwardly out of joint
from an old sports injury still visible
that makes for a good story,
“Oh this?
Let me tell you about the time . . .”

The scars and misshapen
parts of us—
all of us—
that somehow help tell our stories.

Stories of persistence
and perseverance.
Stories of hope
and perfect imperfection.

We are here now.
You are here now.

This old tree
odd and bent
and still gloriously reaching for
the light—
what beauty to behold.

II.
Forests have neighborhoods, too.
Did you know that?

I am in the neighborhood of the Wolf Trees.
Three old growth trees—
some of the oldest in the forest.

Some say Wolf Trees are “left behind” trees.
All their neighbors were cut down,
but these old giants remained behind—
to provide shade, to serve as a landmark.

These giants of the forest
with their great spreading branches.

Sentinels guarding,
providing protection for all beings,
safety and shelter can be found in their hollows.

These trees here for so many years.
Watching the passage of time,
people coming and going,
always in such a hurry.

While the sentinels stand watch together
in the neighborhood—
the good neighborhood watch.
These giants who protect more than we know.

III.
I woke in the night,
hoping to see you today—
the Great Blue Heron.
And great you are.

Poise and grace
are evident in each watery step.

Poise and grace
are evident as you take flight.

Soaring over the pond
and above the tree line,
out of sight,
but not out of heart.

Thank you,
my friend,
for your presence.

IV.
How can I explain this Walk of my Soul?
Here’s what I know
to be true.

Nature is not meant to be claimed
or conquered.

Being with Nature can change your life
and humble you
as you realize you are part of
something
so much greater than yourself.

Just one small part.

Yet you are part of
               something
                              so much greater!

You share the Air with
               the Great Blue Heron
               and the Red-shouldered Hawk
               and the Pileated Woodpecker
                              you stumbled upon on the trail
                                             just today in the Forest.

You share the Earth with
               the old, bent, and glorious Elm Tree
               and the steady, soaring Pines
               and the ancient Wolf Tree sentinels
                              you admired in the Forest.

You share the Water with
               the Sunfish and the Bass and the Trout
               and the Frogs croaking
                              as you sit by the Pond and under the Pines
just now in the Forest.

You share the Fire, too.
               the passionate burning within
                              that all of this
                                             life and beauty
                                                            should be witnessed in the Forest.

You understand that reconnecting with the Earth,
               our home,
                              can reconnect us to ourselves
                                             and to one another.

A great coming home to self.
A great homecoming, with all.
Welcome.

Photos by Rev. Lauren Ostrout.