Portage

And one by one,

year after year,

century after century,

this forest grows.

Sprout to tree.

Moss covered

rotten fallen trees

coat this soft earth.

Pine needles

thrown across uneven terrain.

Little toads,

caretaking paths

deeper into the woods.

Sparkling tea coloured water

surround these shores.

Megalythic Canadian shield

erupts from Earth's crust.

Stand tall and strong

and hold these tattered,

blistered feet

as I explore your patterns.

Grab your bags,

let's go,

like they say...

"Into the woods I go, to loose myself but find my soul".

Rocking canoe

and graceful paddle,

pulling us forward and onward.

Destination at hand, yet no where in sight...

and no where to be but right here.

csh.