Following a trail at Point Lobos
I come upon it
a living flame of red amidst the coastal shrub,
its bark peeling from sculpted branches,
caught in their turning by the August sun
I catch my breath,
my hand, tentative,
touches the living wood,
follows the hidden notes of an earth long here
and I hear a song
I had forgotten.
I follow the trail to China Beach
leaving behind the
Mountain snowmelt plummets
heaved by earth’s tectonic thrusts
hewn by ice and racing water
channeled within earthen banks.
polished by the Big Sur River
invite a crossing to our campsite.
laced up and ready
First steps yield to
the slick surface
and the ankle twists
Where is the benign Mother now?
The running ice stream answers
carrying the wisdom of flowing waters
I will walk.
A light breeze wafts
through the garden
lavender blossoms yield willingly
to the nectar thirsting honey bees
a hummingbird hovers above
to honor their homecoming.
Tomorrow there will be honey