Oak Journey

The oak takes a journey
without moving from its roots.
Branches, leaves and blossoms
all folded in the hollow of the seed.
These days, gnarled, wizened, oaky,
I stay more and more
in the place where I am going
instead of traveling there.
When they ask me, I answer,
'I don't know.'
When they say, 'How?'
I say, 'Slow and easy.'
So they pass me by,
intent on arriving at their goal
while I reach the end of the path
with every step.
You don't have to start
at the bottom, friend,
and you don't have to strive for the top.
You are the mountain.
Just pour one breath into another,
pausing to drink from the chalice
of your heart.


Photo: hiking Mt. Rainier wilderness area