Drawn

I spend a lot of time
staring off
into the trees.
I’m not studying them so much,
not specifically,
its just my eyes and heart
are drawn here.

So much life-
fungus, insects, birds, squirrels,
from micro to macro,
all interacting
within the slow, dramatic
changes of season.

Yet, certain voices are absent
when I am drawn into the trees-
the voice of ego,
the voice of judgment,
the voice calling me
to do a million things.

Its then,
having been lifted above,
that I am able to look back
at my own life
from a different vantage point.

I can see more clearly
what is necessary
and what is not,
what concerns I can let go of
and let flutter to the ground
like so many leaves.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith