Horned One, Lover, Son Leaper in the corn Deep in the Mother Die and be reborn.
“Like a true Nature’s child, we were born, born to be wild..”
Ordinarily I go to the woods alone,
with not a single friend,
for they are all smilers and talkers
and therefore unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree.
I have my ways of praying,
as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone
I can become invisible.
I can sit on the top of a dune
as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned.
I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me,
I must love you very much.
, “How I Go to the Woods” from Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
(Beacon Press, 2010)
Read a little. Meditate more. Think of God all the time.
I will always remember you.
Roman altar - Currently dedicated to Venus
I love this so much and I have no idea why