Forest Jazz

Original Photo from a protected Pine forest outside Darjeeling, India.

Writing challenge from a forest bathing workshop — write 1 poem, in 10 minutes, using only 1 sense modality — describe the scene to a friend. I chose my favorite meditation object — sound :)

Where it goes —
we don’t know,
but we follow it anyway,
clicks and grits of broken road at our heels,

And now the marching band has come to play us a song,
the circadac hum beats and crickets away,
Rising — falling,
Creeping — then screaming,

The vocalist chirping in,
whooing and swaying — flapping and playing,
in all the Jazz,
around — and in — every note,
rests the forest silence,

A nothingness where all arises from,
and all falls back to,
on and on she jams away,
an eternal song of forest day.