#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Your eyes see a trail of polarities
Woods grow familiar and foreign, recognizable
If you think you know the way, your eyes close
for a dark inhale of cool rot and reckoning
and when you open them a strange season is moving
in you An oak tree, there, ahead, splits three ways
at the base asks, look up, up, branches reaching for
the same untroubled sky, look down, see we rooted.
Change is a seed is a force pushing, pushing up
from unconscious, breaking ground, heaving
dead matter and claiming, claiming territory.
Can a shocking thought change your heart?
Your fixed idea meets enchanting disruption.
Look, see where you're blind; standing above
it's a nothing little hill of fallen needles, broken
leaves lifting no particular reason. But you ask
more, look under, kneel and pay attention for
there are levels, how they work, the shake-up
you didn't know you needed has begun
All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2016.