May 10, 2016
This poetic meditation is the first installment of our Book of Echoes.
Thank you to Zeb Wulff for allowing us to repurpose his composition Atmospheres which is featured at the end of the track.
Finding the Grove
I wandered in the forest; the sun was low.
The whole of nature was basking in his glow,
which poured in torrents, bright and sparkling,
to kiss the forest just prior to parting,
and it was clear that his affections were returned.
I wandered bare of foot upon the floor,
no thistle, thorn, or thing to tear here born
With each soft step, the earth did bless me
The scent of herbs arose to greet me
Gliding in a fog of her sweet aromas.
I wandered wide of eye, my senses high.
A rustling in the leaves just to my right!
I caught a glimpse as a fox went darting
through hills and hollows I followed this cunning creature,
running so fast that it blurred the earth’s features
‘til I paused
and realized I was lost.
I wandered in the forest; the sun was gone.
Looming trees above me like a throng─
the heavens scattered, patched and sparkling
like islands in a thick black sea of nothing─
branches scrawling letters, symbols, and icons.
I spot a light off in the distance.
Beams stream through trees like beacons.
A lighthouse calling from the shore
A place with a foundation a core
A place to build a temporary home
With the simpleness of forward motion
As if carried by a current of the ocean
I’m drawn toward a temporary home.
Now I’ve appeared at the edge of a clearing
with a grove in the center all the leaves luminescent.
One tree in the center that towers the others,
and the hum of its magic calling me closer.
At the threshold a voice arrives on the wind.
“This place is yours, and it always has been.”