(after Eckhart)

When I was the dry streambed, rock-strewn,

when I was the field tickseed and lupine-flung,

when I was muddy logans, when I was the forest, I was green’s flotilla,

shroud of cool shadow. Post-ocean, the spines of brachipods

in the ancient sleep of bedrock. I was pine hours, warbler inflected.

When I was the forest I was sap, slope, den, wind hefted, wind thinned.

When I was the forest, light thickened me. When I was

the forest, crow discourse, bat careen, horned owl nocturne. I was old news,

blossom at the root, blossoms at the tip. When I was the forest

I was din; I was mud-honeyed, bee riven, spun, begun

and begun. Burred ice, shed needles, shed skin. How my barks, bug strewn

dreamt skyward. How I was starlight’s basin.

See my bears like loved child gods? See the moose gods go lumbering?

See the sharp teeth of my fisher cats, my mink? How mid-day I am low shush,

bee hum, the mouth of, the bottom and reach of infinity and infinity undone?