On the Path
A tribute to my favorite spiritual practice: trail running
With the trance beginning I plunge into the forest and feel the sensation of entering in, as the trees part and welcome me into their beneficent presence.
Into the woods I go
Kneeling down in grass or soft leaves for the gentle stretch of the shins
Connecting my ears to the timeless music of the ancestors.
With the trance beginning I plunge into the forest and feel the sensation of entering in
As the trees part and welcome me into their beneficent presence.
They speak to me.
When I look down they speak to me of rootedness
Even the rocks and protruding roots in the trail warn me to focus in this moment on my path
But only one eyeful at a time.
Casting my eyes too far down the path, thinking of what is beyond the next curve, is an invitation to a fall.
When I look up the trees speak to me of hope and transcendence, touching sky and earth in the same moment.
They speak to me of love and belonging.
You are one of us, they say, and I lift my arms sometimes to see what it feels like to be one of them.
They are protection and I have never fallen.
The trees smile on me and accept me into their fold because I come not to take but to give back,
Always leaving a small stone as a token of gratitude for the peace and fulfillment I receive in return.
My feet become one with the earth, digging into the decaying leaves, soil and sometimes mud,
And with chest pounding I revel in the swirl of earth and water, my feet stirring air fueled by inner fire.
It's all here in the woods.
Kneeling down in grass or soft leaves for the gentle stretch of the shins
Connecting my ears to the timeless music of the ancestors.
With the trance beginning I plunge into the forest and feel the sensation of entering in
As the trees part and welcome me into their beneficent presence.
They speak to me.
When I look down they speak to me of rootedness
Even the rocks and protruding roots in the trail warn me to focus in this moment on my path
But only one eyeful at a time.
Casting my eyes too far down the path, thinking of what is beyond the next curve, is an invitation to a fall.
When I look up the trees speak to me of hope and transcendence, touching sky and earth in the same moment.
They speak to me of love and belonging.
You are one of us, they say, and I lift my arms sometimes to see what it feels like to be one of them.
They are protection and I have never fallen.
The trees smile on me and accept me into their fold because I come not to take but to give back,
Always leaving a small stone as a token of gratitude for the peace and fulfillment I receive in return.
My feet become one with the earth, digging into the decaying leaves, soil and sometimes mud,
And with chest pounding I revel in the swirl of earth and water, my feet stirring air fueled by inner fire.
It's all here in the woods.