Among the Trees (for Pops)

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
– Mary Oliver, When I Am Among the Trees

A year flies by, doesn’t it? And beneath it all, carried quietly, my own grief and sense of loss. Buried so that others might bear their own.

You knew the trees and taught us to see them too. And you taught us the simple joy of being alive while there’s time. And, as Mary Oliver puts it so much better than I, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.

Today, among the trees, we’ll remember you again (as if we ever forgot). To feel you stir in the breeze and see the mischief carried on in the eyes of those who knew you best. We’ll close this one chapter and begin the next, knowing you’ve never really left us. Not really. For you’ve filled us with light.