I was gone when I rested my head against the solitary canadian redwood. You alone - out in this football field and I can feel and see your sway - how something happened to you when you were young and your own direction makes that point. Not in a forest, not with other redwoods. People don’t seem to understand that trees need other trees - need the forest life to properly sustain and nourish - able you to be the fullest expression of tree you can be. And me? I am alone - but I belong - before there ever was a time I belong - And I be the longing that waxes and wanes in this human heart - I am alive and I feel - sometimes it’s intense like this morning where ten minutes of focus on breathing feels unbearable - felt unbearable - and now my chest tightens and I want to figure it all out. But I cannot fix experience - cannot make a way around what it means to be me and not leave this body to its own devices. I feel you - wish you were nearer in body, mind, soul - and I feel how ancient my longing is and how it is mine and no about of othering will fix and fill the soul that is me - is mine to be loved by God and life - is to be known more deeply that I do right now - write now how life feels: the blackbird - such a friend on a fence - the raindrop held in tension on the manuka flower - gently releasing on my tongue - the way the sky is calling me - the hills revealing their dark shapes as the days of rain subside. Every part of me belongs and I as I risk sharing the tender part of me with you again I step into a bigger field of love - of being held by all the strings that make this tapestry - the cord held by a thousand hands as I reach across the canyon - the divide and love what I must love, go to the one who calls me and press my face against all of this rising soul in me that just wants to create, be loved, seen - like you - like me.