There’s a strange kind of beauty in doing things wrong
Water wears canyons deep,
Rips them asunder, maims them,
ruins them strong
Redwood falls in the forest and nobody hears
But little things burrowing
find haven inside, find home
calming fears
cutting deep, rot the trunk rob the space, mulch it in
offer seedlings a chance to thrive
someday to tower, lean, shade
send leaves spinning to earth, shades of red
pad the pathway, and I tread
oh so softly, gratefuly, hand in hand
breathe gently, don’t upset the balance
don’t fall. Don’t ever fall
but do things wrong sometimes.
Once in a while.
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