The Forest Does Not Know Itself

The forest is vast and limitless

Stretching in all directions

Without boundary

Except where sea and streams 

Run against its shores

The creatures of the forest

Small and large

And the many kinds of plants

All live out their entire lives

Buried within the forest depths

Unbeknownst by the world

And unknowing of the world

The forest is thousands of years old

And the trees within its realm

Reach up far into the sky

And beneath its canopy

Many generations of creature

Large and small

Have passed about their daily lives

Living and dying

Hidden by the many trees

Unbeknownst by the world

And unknowing of the world

And all of life is within this forest

And we were of the forest once ourselves

We came from the forest

We were a part of the forest

For many days and many years

For many generations

We were like all other creatures

Living, suffering and dying

Not knowing the larger world

And unknown by that world

And we know that creatures live and die

Still bound within that forest

And we know that they often suffer

And die in pain and affliction

And that when they are finally dead

Their bodies are consumed 

By the creatures around them

And we know that the forest teems with life

All living and dying

Without knowing

Without being known

Struggling in silent invisibility

And we know their suffering

Because we feel our suffering

And can thereby imagine theirs

And we know their lives and deaths

Because we know ourselves

And can thus imagine them

Like us

Living and dying

Without themselves knowing

Without being known by the world

And we know ourselves

No longer as creatures of the forest

But from the forest

As creatures known by the world

And knowing the world

In which the forest lies

In which all must live and die

We are the world

and the world is us

We know the forest

But we are not known by the forest

Seasons

Odd Ends: Perennial Poesy along the Way

2005