A Sign

Look here, up at this dark hollow -
if only it could speak,
tell us when it
became more than
simply part of the tree.

When did it begin
to extend its living
beyond the bark
of mighty branches
and fragile leaves?

How grateful was the
one pioneer creature
who wandered inward
to the spine and marrow
of this inviting place -

one red squirrel, perhaps,
or a lonely barn owl
breathing life into this reverent cavity,
baptising its walls with
wild, earthy smells and remnant bones.

I study its darkness
and remember the light
once within our own hallowed space -
open, extended to each other,
inviting.

It's as if you are still here with me
hoping for a sign
that lets the sleeping woods know
that this insignificant hole
in this god-forsaken tree

is much more than
merely empty.

***