Janus Point

Sensing

weather is coming

I realize the woods do too

As a gathering storm’s first movement

deciduous leaves turn up as if to welcome the rain

I touch a poplar’s wrinkled bark

feel its wisdom, know its truth

The wind picks up

ancient trees creak and groan

wild creatures fall silent a scherzo rain begins

and I become quiet too

Patterns of wind and water

form a second movement minuet and my mind wanders

this forest has lived for centuries

breathing and alive whether we are here or not

there’s a certain righteousness in that

Hailstones usher in the third movement

I flash connect classical composers the likes

of Mozart, Bach, Strozzi and realize they drew their

musical form from deep inside a kind

of human cellular memory

Drawn from days living in the open air

not conquering the wild but part of the wild

untethered and free

I lie quietly

listening as the storm

in its original tongue performs

a full symphony as moving as Beethoven’s 7th

A final crack of lightning shakes the trees

soon after a last raindrop falls

nature’s glorious dénouement

as the waning moon rises

a grey owl calls

And I wonder where you are tonight