The Forest

The Forest
By Emily Carson

The forest floor is alive in early spring.
Green emerges forth.
Possibility and potential everywhere.

Yet the artifacts of a long winter still remain. 
Last seasons's leaves form a crispy brown carpet.
Dry buds attempt to remain attached to fragile stems. 

Something new is breaking forth.
But the remnants of prior seasons remain.
All of them. All of the seasons are there.
Like a tree with its rings,
a forest, too, carries its history.

Every season since the beginning lives within the soil and the air.

And this is life. 
One season transitions to the next.
But we carry them all.
As we enter into a new season, we bring with us all the rest.

So where shall we focus?

Sometimes it's easy to cast our eyes upon the green, the new, the life. 
We are awake with all that could be.

Other times we can hardly see the buds because we so anxiously
await the sign of a life in full bloom.

Sometimes we look back. The air is growing warmer, but we feel a chill.
The crunching leaves haunt us with memories of seasons long-gone.
Teeny-tiny buds are forming, but we miss it. 
All we see is a tree without leaves.

A healthy forest is a complex system.
For all the creatures to thrive, a balance must be reached.
Every season plays its part.

A healthy human is a complex system, too.
A balance must be reached.
A respect for the past and acknowledgement of its truths.
Life in the present, an appreciation for its beauty.
A vision for the future, 
so that we know how best to do our part in creating it.

The forest floor is alive in early spring.
And so are you.
Look around.
Soak in the view.
From here.


  1. What a beautiful piece of poetry. Thanks, Emily. Now you know what I mean by growth.