Fallen branches wait to be cleared and you now
drop leaves no longer useful. Every day new old leaves drop
and cover the trail again, reshaping it, untouching it.
Decaying practicality, now open to opportunity.
Nobody has ever walked on my dead parts before—
you will not be the last. This moment is here but will be gone
soon and forever.
Walk by yourself or with another.
Walk with a loved one or with an enemy.
Whether you share visions or disagreements
soon you will be walking side-by-side to the same rhythm,
left foot, right foot, trip. Not indifference but understanding
will leave my woods today. Hope for another moment together
soon and forever.
These seconds are rotting apples, sweet but tender. This day
is a new beginning for the whole world. I am the world.
This world is mine to live, celebrate, and ignore.
Who will be the keeper of my destiny, if not myself?
I hear the honeybee sing to the doe:
“Today is a good day to die.”
So it is for me and my kingdom.