Sleeping in the Forest
I thought the earth remembered me,
She took me back so tenderly
Arranging her skirts
Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before
A stone on the riverbed,
Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,
But my thoughts.
And they floated light as moths
Among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
Breathing around me.
The insects and the birds
Who do their work in darkness.
All night I rose and fell,
As if water, grappling with luminous doom.
By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times
Into something better.
Inspired by this breathtaking poem by Mary Oliver, a group of freelensing Mothers from around the world have come together to let our children explore this great planet of ours. Through the fields, forests, streams and rivers our children roam. Untethered and disconnected from the intrawebs of modern life. And because we only freelense on these adventures, there is a side of embracing the unexpected and the random.
One summer morning, I got a phone call. One I didn’t want, but one which might save my life. Then I got a text, a few days late, asking if we wanted to go sailing. We shunned the sardines packed on the beach. The masses. The line ups for burgers, bathroom stalls and parking spots. For the solitude of floating on The Lake. With 3 people I love dearly. My son, my daughter and my brother.
The quiet. On this day of all days. Called to the water. This place called Grand Bend. Of Course.
Up next in the circle is the master of freelensing, Heather Robinson