The Pine Grove

We went off the path to wander in the pine grove on the southwestern side of the small forest. I listen to happy voices as I ponder the space between the trees and the space between myself and others. It is easier to be alone in this little grove. The sparse branches at the bottoms of the trees force your longing and your looking upwards. This upwards energy makes the space condense. When I look out into the forest I am occupied with the many but when I look up I am alone with this one tree. My attention settles and green needles greet me in abundance. A winter viradescence that pulls me through the last of the cold. I lie down in the snow to look longer and more intimately. My eyes are now consumed with height. These particular pine branches are my window to the heavens and this soft cold snow is the hand that holds me fast. From here I can realize light years beyond the clouds, imagine stars, the black heavens; infinite depths.