Forest Romp

I’ve made it out to the forest in spite of the frosty cold, air that points fingers

Into warm creases and spaces filled with body heat, to steal comfort and make

Me work harder, walk faster, quick short steps that keep the cold at bay

I tramp through the trees, the path worn here and there by snowshoes and skis

Deep, sharp footprints of deer hooves, some big and strong, some tiny, dainty

Prancing or scampering tracks,  mottled by shuffling or trudging boot marks

Long streamers of sun-shined ski dents showing the way over the glossy trail

I  enjoy this stillness, the icy breeze sends little shivers, the blue sky sits still.

I stop high on the trail above the river, near a wooden bench, listening to the flow

Of the polar water running beneath ice, encased in long, thin, possessive sheets

Along the edges of the river  are more deer tracks, evidence of their frolicking

Happy, romping marks reminding me of poetry, and “where angels dare to trod.”

I always feel the spirits resting in the trees, I stop to put my hands on bark, rough

Satisfying, it feels strong and durable, the essence in my life I miss most of the time

The big hands I long to have caressing me at night are missing in my life, the stolid

Tree trunks remind me of male muscle, strong arms holding me, I am secure, stilled

And as I lift my gaze to the tree tops that have reached high to heaven with trust

My face is caressed with a soft, smattering of tiny cooling drops, my skin is flushed

Then chilled, soothed, touched.  It feels like a blessing from the gods of the forest.

 Awed, I ramble down to the river  and sit so close to the rushing current, that I can

Feel its body moving near mine, alive, rushing, churning, flipping up twigs and logs

Limbs parting in her streams and flowing within her grasp, she moves even the 

Massive bits, and her strength is a never-ending torrent of meaning and measure

A river always feels like an entity to me, her heartbeat strikes mine with depth

Resonates in a part of me few people know or understand, I trail my fingers along

The icy sides of her near the muck of the banks and I let her essence fill me like sex

We merge as one in female need and I envy her catch of rough bark and branch.

  

Ambling back up towards the higher trail, I ascend the sloping hill in sturdy boots

Across the mounds of the forest bottom I glimpse the flashing white tails of deer

A few of them darting away and over the wooden rail fence, nervous of my presence

A tiny spotted fawn stops to glance back at me, big, brown, glazed eyes curious

I smile and traipse along, the crisp crunch of boot smacking hard-packed gritty snow.

At the edge of the forest I stop to feel my goodbye, a last, long lingering look

Longing to stay and merge with them, longing to take their heartbeat home.

cailin raine