To walk the wildwood that sings in our souls. To be the voice of the tree roots, deep pools, the ocean depths and mist drenched headlands. Who speaks for the woods and fields. For the hills and valleys. For the salt marshes, waves and tides. For the deserts, plains and canyons. And who also speaks with the voices of those close to home. With the voices of the mouse, eagle, wolf or salmon. Who speaks in cadences that go beyond the darkness, the stars, all that which cannot be measured as this world takes its measures. One whose nature sings with the voices of the spirits in nature like reeds at dawn in a pool where trout swim.
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