Quiet Contemplation in the Woods

I sit beneath one of the murmuring trees

Leaning my back against it’s trunk

I can feel the vibration from deep within it

And my heart murmurs an answering beat

I sit in quiet contemplation

Of my life (as if I don’t always do this!)

But the nurturing warmth of the Murmuring Woods

Make this contemplation different

I feel more quietly alive than I do at the Abbey

The sounds of nature sing to me as walls of concrete cannot

As I sit there, my eyes closed, breathing in the nourishing scent of the earth beneath me

I notice that there are two wood spirits, a bit heavier than feathers, sitting lightly on each of my shoulders

I don’t need to look at them, speak to them or acknowledge them

They know as I know that no words are really needed in a place such as this

We understand each other, the wood spirits and I

We are connected and they know me as I know them

In ways that words cannot describe

At last there is somewhere to go

Nearby my room at Riversleigh Manor

Where I can get some fresh air

But retreat into the familiar comfort

Of a room of my own, when I need to

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~ by Stacey-Ann on January 13, 2007.

5 Responses to “Quiet Contemplation in the Woods”

  1. SEED: “they know me as I know them”

    FITZ Tilte: Common Bond
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    there was a time, before people forgot
    that all were of one and creation,
    where strangers met would say,
    “I see you there!” instead of “Howdie,”
    or quickly averted eyes.

    Now a few say Namaste’
    that has the same touch of knowing;
    but mostly we have to go into the woods
    and wait for faeries …

    . . . . . . . . . Bard of Lemuria

  2. Like you I know I am not alone in the woods Stacey Anne and there is no need to speak. The quiet strength supports and sustains me.

  3. I find the Murmuring Woods to be nurturing, too. Maybe it’s because “no words are needed in a place like this” that I frequently find myself at a loss for words. Lots of feeling(s), but no words.

  4. This is glorious writing, and true, of course. Sometimes the wonder of it all is too much for speaking about.

  5. The Sounds of Silence indeed. Hush and listen to the sylvan symphony.

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