Eye to Eye

Observations from Above the Olympic Mountains

Humans are greedy, little things.

Always crying mine when we ought to be thinking ours with ears open, intently listening to the pulse of everything around us.

As I flew among the gods, I was shocked by our insatiable appetite yet again. How many vole burrows collapsed under churning treads? What goshawk returned to find a once staunch nest sundered by steel? What age-old mycelial network was irreparably severed in the greedy collapse of giants? Why are we so fucking hungry?

How could any person stand in those woods beneath the watchful eye of those giants and do what they did? Is it enough to bear witness? Is it enough to draw lines— sacrifice one thing to protect another? What constitutes vengeance? An eye for an eye. I take issue with the imbalance of the exchange; how little we give back.

How are we providing to Her?

The trees proudly bear bark with the same grooves

as my darling's laugh lines.

The marbled river stone, bright and polished by time,

reflects in my lover's eyes

The Spring mud cracks in Summer's heat

as the hard-working hands of my sweet.

Outstretched boughs in the gale bend and ache

as my honey's seasoned body.

Hearty balsamroot mottles in the senesce of summer sun

as the freckles that adorn my sweetie's cheeks.

To age, is there a more precious gift?

To grow old with your loves and to watch time mold the clay of their being.

Our existence is both bigger than the infinite galaxies

and smaller than the particles of stardust which constitute our very being.

In disrespecting Her, we disrespect all that we have ever loved.