We bathe in wonders. Some manipulate aspects of these aided by theories of gravity or electromagnetism. I try to stand tall with shoulders back so I can breathe deeply which keeps my heart open to resonate with Whatever. I step off the street and enter a dense forest trail. As I move deeper into the woods human sounds smooth out into hums softer than the crunch of my feet on last autumn’s leaves.
Walking this path, I intend to pay attention, but I miss almost everything.
When I choose not to enter some woods, it sprinkles me with thoughts of regret. If I do enter, but pay no attention to anything, I am still caressed. Someday I might understand the rapture of every creature like that of the worms as they return autumn’s mulch to the trees, but, right now, I can’t separate out those drops of this forest bath. I walk. When the path ends I feel refreshed.
WORMS WORK WINTER MULCH
RIVER DRAINS AWAY THE SNOW
FOOTSTEPS CRUMPLE LEAVES
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday hosted by Toni aka kanzen sakura (www.kanzensakura.wordpress.com) who writes, “In 1980, the Japanese began a type of healing/meditation/relaxation process called shinrin-yoku (森林浴) or literally, forest bathing.” The prompt is to try this yourself and report on your experiences.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 