The Poet’s Guild

When we go into the woods
we lay down our weapons.
Place them at their feet,
their basin, their trunks,
on stones or behind shrubs,
on the edge of the forest,
before we enter.

The pine stops bullets.
The hickory blunts swords.
The willow catches arrows.
Such is their magic.

They bare time,
layered in their cores,
marked on their bodies,
growing towards the air;
the past, present, and future.
So what would you expect from
these beings?

In their presence,
we listen and learn,
feel their heartbeats in our heartbeat.
They show us how to become
into the All.
Consciousness masters.
So this
is why we lay down our weapons.