“where the trees are sacred and wise…”

For Utah poet Jan Minich, springtime brings reflections on the all-too-swift passage of the seasons (from the 2023 issue of Deep Wild Journal):

Remaining Springs

We prefer living only with family,
no longer in cities.
We watch the sun
move down the canyon wall,
a turn that shows the way forward
or back, defensible in a way
the future can never be.

We need distance and time alone,
the quiet we have in these canyons
elevating into cliffs
an absence of sound, the stream
running even in the hottest times.

We meet halfway,
exchange encumbrances,
embrace the sky
like an unknown face
that comes to us at night
but disappears by morning when dawn
awakens the birds and fills
our lives fills with song.

Evenings, we watch the sun
going down, a ritual climb
to the top and then to our place
at the low part between mountains
that rise from the desert,
where the trees
we were taught as children are sacred
and wise because they outlive us.

Jan is one of 51 writers whose wilderness-inspired work appears in Deep Wild 2023. Look for the 2024 issue–our sixth–in June!