I went for a walk into the pasture today
To look for myself, and to maybe look for God
My sudden appearance alarmed the dozing cows
Whose bellowing then disturbed the wild ducks nestled
Within the woods --and waking the dog who galloped
Toward me, smiling furry face to join my journey
We walked along the hoof trodden paths through the woods
To the lower most end of the eastern section
A squirrel scampered away as I crunched through the leaves
January dew on a not so cold morning
I glimpsed for a moment a shadow of myself
The fifteen year old girl who loved the pasture walks
And she pointed me toward a row of steady trees
That marked the midway point of the hill towards the road
Standing there so still, with no leaves to evidence
If they stood there alive, or if they stood there dead
The only movement was of the slow moving clouds
Passing behind their limbs, bringing a chance of rain
Followed by a cold front (according to the news)
They stood as three groups of figures sculptured—displayed
One was really two, embracing – one slumped, leaning
On the other that stood more solid, tall and strong
Arms wrapped around and supporting the smaller one
The second, a cluster, a chaotic family
Flailing with twists and turns, comically connected
By weaving muscadine vines, the longest one held
Like a jumprope between the tallest two members
And finally the third, was leaning to one side
Half of it was gone – cut away at the trunk’s fork
Separated, either by nature or by man
Any evidence of its existence was gone
Except for the void it left upon what remained
And it reached up toward the sky, instead of outward
For there was nothing there beside it to embrace
Digging deep into the earth to strengthen its grip
Determined to survive—it would bare leaves in spring
I studied the trees with my camera and my poem
I did not find myself there within the pasture
I did however take a few pictures of God
