The Forest: Evening and Morning

With dusk and with dawn the eye awakens

in moments about to come 

                                               or in moments just passed;

I was blind from the glare of the day

                                                                blind from the black of night.

Now, in both dwindling light and in coalescing light,

for the very first time,

treetops, underbrush brashings,

mosses and moulds and lichen hagbeards,

the hidden webmesh of tender roots,

light-seekers and shade-lovers, all twine

here, where no stories can be untold,

where a live presence alerts sense number six.

This Pollock-wired maze is not a place to go

because I have always been here

in the hour each day fades or comes,

when each heightened sense stirs

a simmered gut-cauldron of adrenalin:

Rilke’s beauty meets terror words

conjure an act of recognition -

once I too was without fear.

Waldeinsamkeit – the feeling of being alone in the woods.

Even death may be allowed to live here,

                                                                     where I return

this time to stay until it becomes fully dark

                                                                          and fully light;

in twilight slight but carried sounds take over,

in daylight definition becomes too precise.

This is where dream and nightmare

can both be true, be simultaneous,

stand back to back against the unknown