A Pew in the Forest High on a mountaintop where few ever go, the autumnal forest rises in splendor like a cathedral accepting all kinds of seekers inside its ancient pillars of trees pointed heavenward. And in a small nave of arched branches, I listen to the bird-choristers. The woodland incense of acorn drifts above the crunch of leaves, both whispered like prayers for the transcendence of being, and I know without a doubt something holy is afloat and afoot in this ephemeral space that will not look quite the same tomorrow. But today, sunlight on stained-glass leaves pulses a reminder of the deep red lifeblood flowing through the roots of the Spirit, linking me to all creatures, revealing also the golden tone of gratitude that is fused to the breath of the earth if we notice it. I hear the numinous wood-laced hymns rebound the flamboyant flutter of a truth, which I know I must accept here, even as I pine for the one who has departed from me— the truth that each of us must pass through the autumn before living forever in spring. As a pilgrim humbled by a need to wonder, I take my pew—this moss-covered log— sheltered beneath an old oak that’s become my friend, and I embrace the communion, knowing deeply, even in loss and sorrow, the certitude that it is well with my soul.
Danita Dodson is a poet, educator, and literary scholar. She is the author of two books of poetry, Trailing the Azimuth (2021) and The Medicine Woods (2022). Her poems have also appeared in Salvation South and the Tennessee Voices Anthology. Dodson is a native of Sneedville, Tennessee (USA), where she hikes in the hills of her ancestors and explores local history connected to the wilderness. Read more at www.danitadodson.com.
Amethyst Review 