The catalpa nurtured from a branchlike stick and the day lilies are both in bloom again.
Note—This appeared on this date one year ago.
A moment of modest mysticism for a some-time humanist and skeptic of what I used to call mystictristic mumbo jumbo. The prompt for this effort was The Wisdom of Trees a worship service by Carol Alfus at Tree of Life Unitarian Universalist Congregation in McHenry, Illinois.
Kathy's tree--a Colorado blue spruce in 2022. With three more years of growth four feet since then.
The Lurking Druid
July 1, 2024
Perhaps a lurking Druid dwells within
not really worshiping trees
to invoke gods or wraiths,
but drawing on them
for some kind of
connection to the Greater
on my daily—weather perming—
perambulation of my modest estate.
It’s not exactly Nature worship
these familiar trees
were planted here by human hands—
stewards of the plot before me,
not remnant primeval woodland—
the spreading catalpa from
far off India,
the blue spruce
of Western mountains,
or the lilacs
bred to a fare-thee-well
for color and profusion
of blooms.
No sacrifices under cloud scudding moon
just a deep breath or two
and a communion of being
during my passing turn
as their neighbor.
—Patrick Murfin
