Morning in the Woods

Walking in the Mist

Beyond the open window,
the forest stretches far away.

The edge of the mist is faint,
yet it brings no unease.
In the cool, crisp air
I gently close my eyes.

Now and then
a birdsong like a whistle drifts by—
a path I walk
and keep on walking.

Rather than thinking,
a step that feels almost like magic,
where thoughts themselves disappear.

Thoughts that vanish without a trace
are pressed beneath my steps,
and with each footfall
I grow lighter.

I am no longer here—
suddenly absorbed into the forest,
returning for a moment
as a small and humble creature.

Hello.

Even a tiny wriggle
is enough to say good morning.
From a little insect
I learn how to greet.

Hello—
with a grateful heart,
an exchange of glances
in place of words.

And then
I walk deeper along the forest path—
a path that is good
even if it leads nowhere.

*these are my own paintings *