intellectual properties

moondance

i grew up in a woods
so far away from any pavement or highway
that all you could hear in the middle of the night
or even sometimes the day
was the wind whispering through the trees
and the feeling of dust between your toes
was one of the best feelings in the world

so now, after living in the concrete urban loud banging environment
loudspeakers and street signs that talk and rumbling semis
and trains that shake the ground,
when i escape to the trees, my whole body goes romantic
and i invert.

“you’ve seemed really distant all weekend”, she said
thinking something was wrong
as we walked along the dusty path in the redwood sun.
all i could think to answer that could possibly explain that
no, i am not upset, no i am not sick,
no i am not avoiding you
and everything is more than fine was:
“i am in the trees”.

and when i am in the trees, i am in my head,
perhaps because of so many silent, solo days and nights spent wandering through
the maple forests and grassy foothills of my youth under sun and moon
wondering about the universe
i slip so easily back into that place
a slight barefoot blonde girl, singing only to the trees
a stick in her hand, making trails in the sand, maybe a dog following.

i am completely overtaken by moonlight.
i get lost in it.
it casts a spell like nothing else
everything under its pale glow appears magical
everything seems like it’s where it is supposed to be
everyone so beautiful
the shadows move so gracefully
like a midsummer night’s dream
it’s hard to tell what is real, and what is imagined
and where they intertwine.
it’s actually hard for me to experience the woods with someone else now
i just want to be alone -
but at the same time i have this terrible urge to share,
to have someone else understand
that what happens in the moonlight
is subject to a whole different set of rules,
and you need to look with new eyes to see.
the forest knows this. don’t we?

the wonderful thing about Raindance
was that most of the other revelers seemed to understand this too:
the wannabe wood nymphs scampered about like children along the trails
exploring space and time and dirt and sun and moonlight and water and sky
fairy dust and chemistry expanding the universe
until all one could do was stand and stare at what is,
picking carefully through the granulated matter
looking for the secrets.

i did many laps through the trees alone,
in fact i could not stop
every trip to the bathroom or for water or to get away from the humans
turned into an exploration of the edges
around and through the soft glowing additions
man’s self-made reflection of what the universe seems to be
shapes and sounds and textures and sights and smells
at moments wondering:
why ruin a perfectly good forest with all this sound and decoration?
but the birds and insects and plants have long added their songs and color to the forest,
why shouldn’t we?

enraptured with pushing the envelopes
containing what it means to be human and awake and alive
we danced joyously endlessly for days
as the light slowly moved through the dawn into glorious sunlight
to dusk and then the pale moonglow of enchanted evening falling softly through the trees
and back again
reminding us that time does not stop
and all we have is to be here now
and the questions are always more important than their answers.

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