A Monk in the Forest

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 31, 2018

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Submitted: August 31, 2018

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We're lying naked in your tent,

still sticky from making love

in the cold air;

the dogs are warm at our feet

under a blanket

when I hear it ~

 

the faint jingle of a cowbell

separated from the herd,

down by the creek,

what you'd said sounded like

"a wandering monk in the forest" ~

 

and the next night, on the hill,

a growing chorus

of cowbells in the darkness ~

my vision of the herd

formed only through the sound

of hooves and soft moaning.

 

*

 

In the morning the farmer

walks up the dirt road,

all large-belly in overalls

and heavy-footed, calling them.

 

Somehow he knows

exactly where they'll be

in the vastness of forest.

 

"He knows them since they are babies,” you say,

"but then he slaughters them later in the year...

I don't trust a man like that..."

 

I hide in the van on instinct

after hearing him call them.

You stand alert; your dogs bark.

 

Death, you can smell on a man.

 

My plant-eater,

you tell me stories of deer

who can smell you and know

you would never hurt them.

You, whose camp

the mountain lions

and bears wander into,

and leave you alone.

 

*

 

You show me the patch of forest

you're working on that day,

and as you cut the dead timber

from the lowest limbs,

I collect the small branches into piles
and drag the pine to be made into poles.

 

The dogs nap on the needles

until falling branches startle them awake, 

and they slink away to plop into shade.

 

But I am not a little woman,

and while you take a break

to commune with Spirit,

the white smoke from incense

like clouds of snakes,

exhaled prayers,

 

I saw away with my whole being;

my enthusistic fairy comes out,

blissful smiles painted

like butterflies on my face,

dreaming about what it means

to come home into my body,

to the woods,

to my own Source.

 

What would it be like

if I leap...

and make a home in you.

 

"It seemed like your saw

never stopped moving" you muse,

and I blush,

and swell with pride

at the life we could be living.

 

Bathing naked in the creek,

again I have the feeling

of eternity, or another lifetime

repeating itself in simplicities:

 

watching afternoon shadows on the forest floor

as the dogs lap the water

and sit their bellies full in;

meanwhile your modest glances

while you hold up my green sarong;

I cup the cold water in my hands

and flush my yoni, my armpits,

my face, my feet; I comb my fingers

through my hair.

 

You have your back to me

and I ask the trees, silently,

if you are the one

I should root myself to

who will give me children.

 

I am crouched in the water, bare yoni

finally warm in the cold.

The breeze is steady.

I turn to see you have outstretched your hand.

 

*

 

The first day we get to the woods,

before all this beauty happens

after we relax into how we feel,

 

our only fight is how you want me with you, always,

and how I want our future children

to be warm,

 

"What do you think of me?"

you ask, laughing,

 

and I realize that

judgement is the killer,

judgement has been

the death of me,

 

and that you are

still standing there,

waving your arms wildly,

asking me, "where is your home?"

 

and I answer:

With you, beloved, and you with me,

so be with me,

 

Leap, “I can't tell you what to do,” you say,

“What does your heart tell you?”

 

That question

that makes me fall in love with you

over and over like an infinity mirror,

and seems to go with

 

“how do you want to live your life”

and

“how many children do you want?”

and

“what would their names be?”

and

“I am a fan of goats”

and

“earthen homes stay warm in the winter

and cool in the summer”

and

“yurts are cool, too, and you can make a fire”

“what about the smoke?”

“the smoke comes out the top!”

and

"the forest is my home"

and

"the dogs would love it

and so would the children"

and

“this is scary for me to say

up until this point in my life, beloved,

but I never

want to be away from you,

either.”

 

 

~ Copyright 2017 Eden Orlando. All Rights Reserved.


© Copyright 2018 Eden Orlando. All rights reserved.

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