Smell of earthen damp reinvigorates me as I linger
beside a forest stream. I breathe in again,
this time more deeply still, and watch
in amazement as tadpoles dart about.
They will be frogs one day.

From a distance, tangerine flame rises to dance
in indigo sky. In time, it falls again as
fine mist veils forest and its trees.
Morning and evening the first day
no different than this, my day’s
respite in deciduous garden.

Morning, the next day. Dateline, Iraq. Yet another
gruesome find: body decapitated. Heavy-hearted,
I set out for shady haven where world
of humankind’s dark devising falls away
and true r, deeper streams are tapped.
I breathe in fresh aromas, filled
with gratitude for Eden’s entry.

Silent offering is shattered by a single gunshot
that pierces the heart of every soul that would
choose life. Bullet’s unwelcome blast
reverberates, like the endless echo
of cries rising up, ringing out
from earth’s sanctuary
soiled again with blood.

I run. To the heart of the forest, I run, for I know
though my heart be broken, such savagery
might find its home as easily in me.
The cool of a summer rainshower
mingles with repentant tears.
Falling, I catch myself, leave
my handprints in wet ground.