Sleeping in the Forest

The morning light shifts notably these mornings….And I feel it in me when I rise

I too am shifting, down, into a lower gear, softly falling to the earth as the golden leaves to the ground

I exhale and release gratefully into this time of letting go.

The one last gift I longed for from summer was a family camping night and some forest herb gathering

and so it was, cozy under bright stars, waking to frost on the logs we leaned into by fire light the night before.

I now feel a season complete, having been so generous with us, I feel so happy for the return of the season of internal times and retreat

As I slept in the forest this weekend, This poem kept coming to me, one of my very favorites, reminding me that what truly sets me straight is being outside, being in nature and being nurtured by her.

Sleeping in the Forest

I thought the earth

remembered me, she

took me back so tenderly, arranging

her dark skirts, her pockets

full of lichens and seeds.  I slept

as never before, a stone

on the riverbed, nothing

between me and the white fire of the stars

but my thoughts, and they floated

light as moths among the branches

of the perfect trees, All night

I heard the small kingdoms breathing

around me, the insects, and the birds

who do their work in the darkness.  All night

I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling

with a luminous doom.  By morning

I had vanished at least a dozen times

into somethings better.- Mary Oliver

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