Idyllwild

Idyllwild

Sitting here in the mountains of Idyllwild,

I contemplate the bigness of the mountain and the smallness of the ant. I think the mountain will never miss the little boy who once roamed her hills and the ant will probably be better off without the little boy who would step on it or spray it with water.

But what if that little boy had had a chance to grow into a man?

And what if inside that boy was the potential to save the forest or the ozone or a rare species of bird or plant or one-celled organism. Or what if his efforts saved the mountain from turning into condos.

Wouldn’t the mountain and the ant be all the better for knowing the little boy they will never miss?

Does the mountain know?
Does the bird hovering near the tree?
Does the ant following the trail of pheromone?
What about the wind that is God’s air?
The giant pine
or the small blade of grass?
The pretty white clouds
or the beautiful blue sky?
Can any of them whisper a secret in my heart
or show me a sign
or say it out loud?
“Jamie is Here, He is Here”
“Your son is a part of all and alive in your heart”
Can they tell me? Can I trust them?
Does anyone or anything really know?

*****

Writings inspired during our weekend in Idyllwild September 13-15, 2002
Thank you Kevin for the use of your cabin.
Copyright 2002 Elene Bratton

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