"IS IT FOR REST?"


Is it for rest?
Or farthest for us
– that greenness, real
left around in which our ways
pass, sometimes leading
into what there is or
out into some land beyond

& is that in it, in the wood
or outside? Can we stay? Could
there be given any word to say? What
will tell? If it is that the way
we take leads us where it wants
& not us, will we ever find
what there is in it which
is that dark within the light
ness guarding what is there?

                                                           When
we are there, when we are where
are we? We are in green & in darkness
& in a place still because all around
moves passionately into us.
We hear the bird song; we hear
the leaves unfold, sliding & fall;
the mist rising up about us tells
us where we are & the darkness beneath us
shows us the paths to us & the paths
from us. There are none. We are alone.
We don't want to say anything, just show
the rest what passed for us
into this forest.