She Dances With Trees - Kate Dougherty

[Larry Robinson]

She Dances With Trees


Daughter in the valley,
she walks like a cat.
Princess on the mountain top,
she bends like a willow.
Her body tells stories
whether she wants to or not.

She dances in the forest
hauls her own weight
three stories high
and the massive redwood 
holds her steady.
Barefoot she springs away 
as if time were a memory; 
spins like a child’s dream
of joy set free;
sways back gently 
to her soft-barked partner 
and again -  
a soaring osprey
then a landing wren.

When she dances with trees
the ten thousand things dance as one.
Their silence sings.
Their stillness flows.
They reveal themself.

She heals.
Blockages like ravaged redwoods,
mounds of senseless debris
clog swollen stream-beds.
She knows 
meridians of earth, herbs, bodies;
massive junctures can be cleared 
with ancient-wisdom pinpricks,
the grace of passive activism.

Her only devotion
is Being.  
When let go
to its own 
nature goes, 
water flows,
salmon return.

	- Kate Dougherty