because naturally upon entering
you lower your voice
because through branches on high
fluffs of fog drift
in shafts of sunlight
because you’ve met this feeling
in cathedral, mosque, temple
because a redwood seems always
to know what it’s doing
because your body feels small
because your spirit grows large
because a redwood with its power
will never preach
makes no demands
sips from the clouds
swallows the sunlight
shelters the chipmunk, the owl, you
because a redwood takes the long view
because the redwood withstands flame
has kinship to stone, to river and earth
to the patience of stars
to the holy
because you forgot the question
but a redwood grove
is the answer
This poem first appeared on a billboard in Kew Gardens, London, UK.
—
Joe Cottonwood’s poetry books include Random Saints, Foggy Dog and Son of a Poet. Long ago he wrote an underground novel called Famous Potatoes and recently the memoir 99 Jobs: Blood Sweat and Houses as well as several novels for children. He lives with his high school sweetheart under redwood trees in the Santa Cruz mountains of California. He has worked most of his life in the construction trades repairing and improving houses.
