“WritingTime” has reappeared thanks to my friend and computer guru Rob Daly. Ten years of posts as well as my entire website vanished over a month ago. Something to do with malware or some form of virus, but all has been restored to cyberspace health and it’s good to be back. Many more posts to follow.

A reader sent me this beautiful poem a few months ago and it was so meaningful to me on another level.

LOST

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

— David Wagoner

(from the lore of the native people of the North West)