In the Woodland
This moment, then another, cherry trees
Experience a lifted limb, their blooms
Go up and down. A blast of wind, or breeze
As gentle as the blossoms sees their tombs
Implied. “Is this enlightenment?” spring asks.
In Maytime forests here and there a deer
Peeks through the dappling leaves. This deer’s green tasks
Perhaps provide satori from that sphere
If only life is open to it. Fawns
Lie curled with spots of light when left behind
By mothers, grace prophetic as the swans
On nearby streams, yet men continue blind.
Each stillness suffers change yet all appears
The same. We seldom glimpse our true frontiers.
~ Phillip Whidden