The days , mostly , filled with doing and moving . Prioritizing and producing . And so I come to the water’s edge to be still . To witness . To feel my heart being soothed and to know that the wild part has a place too . 
Quiet courage and comfort amongst the trees and when in need go to them and breathe . They hold your ancestors stories and in this life will nourish yours .
A light touch of my hand against the ancient strength of the trees and in the stillness of the moment I can see . I can see with my heart and know what it is to be free .
There is a flow in the wisdom of the trees and a power misunderstood by men . When standing amongst the trees , deep breath in , close yours eyes and feel . Feel a rhythm of life that is sacred …oh so dear .
It does not discriminate or hate . It calls for you to come and be the courageous one . The comfort of the trees is longstanding and free . In the quiet of the trees is where you will know what is real .
It was a dream imagined long before the first step ever happened . The places and their specifics were not yet in my sights but somehow I knew that I would be going on this exploration . A marvelous mystery was showing itself in parts and leading to an adventure .
Delighted by the unknown in front of me and , in moments of questioning , I recognized the choice . Give my questions to trust and be on the way or feed them , turning them into fear . I chose trust and was rewarded greatly .
A magnificent adventure unfolded and lives in my heart still . It reminds me again and again of the beauty in the unknown and of the delicate language of the trees . A peaceful visitor can witness the rhythms of the sun shining through the branches and leaves and dancing on the forest floor while the birds follow the visitor’s movements with songs .
In a moment here and there I felt as though I as feeling the footsteps of the Souls that had gone before me . As if I were walking with them and they with me .
The combined solitude and camaraderie amongst the fellow pilgrims reached a place so deep that it continues to teach me and comfort me so many years later . 
Each step down the hall was light so that the cold floor just barely teased her bare feet .
Warm cup of tea in hand she headed towards a sweater . The raucous sounds of the winds
had quieted a bit now and the tension in the air had dissipated .
She began humming nothing in particular and it was , after all , absentminded .
The preparations for an outing continued . The anticipation for having an adventure was
revealing itself in the beats of her heart . The well worn softness of her favorite sweater being
pulled down over her head was comforting and brought a smile to her face . “Mmmmm….” as
she stretched . A light heartedness came over her and her thoughts became most optimistic .
Pausing at the window nearest to her bed …” how are the birds doing in all of this wind ? ” she
thought . ” They know what to do . An internal , ancient guidance alive and well in their veins
unlike humans with so much left to the fickle fate of wants and desires . ” She twirled and
twirled again humming louder and her feet warm with woolen socks .
THUD . She jumped , just a little . A small rock had been kicked up by a random wind and hit a
window pane .
……to be continued
I must have dozed off while birds were singing . Sweet and lively sounds acting like a
serenade . Their stories filled the air and comforted me into sleep .
Awakened by rustling as the winds began blowing . Stronger and stronger they grew
and stirring up the instincts as they do . Memories from all the storms that have come and
then have gone .
Then there is quiet and there is calm .
I do choose a beautiful , wild road and in between …. a bit of rest .
The rawness exposed rising up from my soul .
Shuddering in it’s innocence and slightly sweet in it’s song .
Dares to be a melody and not a lullaby .
And a glimpse of raggedy edges does not frighten me .
They have been seen before .
The longing for smoothness may appear along with gentleness in your glimpses .
There is nothing to fear .
In a moment , when a breeze becomes more , I choose to run along beside it .
Almost wanting to close my eyes and only to feel …
the delight and the laughter
and then I am free .
When the Spirit is Free
Trading the idea of comfort for mystery , it comes and then it goes.
And
The familiar is already alive inside and goes where you go .
And
The mystery you imagine is alive inside
And
in the stars up above , in the mountain that you see and in the whispers among the trees .
And
in the depths of your eyes , in the love you seek and in the nudges from your soul
to grow .
‘Essence ‘
blchapman 