Hekla Poem

Autumn Harvest-A group effort

The rhythm of my plucking fingers comes in line with the heartbeat of the earth

Eyes scanning the fragile branches as the cold bites at my hands

My sight turns inward, contemplating this lace and our purpose here today

I wonder at my relevance in this space—if I am noticed by the silent birch and tiny seeds, a visitor in quiet harvest

While I try to help the birch to grow and thrive, it seems that it doesn’t really need me and will stoically survive

Oh thy sheep please lessen your numbers on the land if your human counterparts won’t do it for you

The precious little moments found in the forest transports myself and hopefully others to a world unknown and mysterious

The sense of solitude brings one self closer to the meaning of nature and to what it means to connect with nature

The peeling, sloughing birch bark could take the place of my own skin

With fingers speckled in brown, my movements become second nature and I find my bag filling without realizing it

I felt each nob of the branch, each slowly dying leaf, each catkin softly crumbling between my fingers—I was part of nature

Bringing forests to barren landscape in the land of fire and ice