The Solace of the Woods

The wreckage of two lives, hers and his,
behind him, he first sought the solace of
the woods: the hardness of oak, the dense
liquidity of maple, the red sweetness of
cherry, the resilience of cedar, the
resistance of redwood and the welcome of
that most pedestrian of workhorses, pine,
softest and most fragile.
Yet the woods with all their surprises and
contrariness and sudden yieldings
offered only the quiet of the moment, the
calm of immediacy, the barest touch of quiet.
His hands touching wood could create
extraordinary beauty but beauty
insufficient to heal the wounds, cover the
scars or make a whole life whole. So
that for which he hungered, that for which he
most desired, remained a wisp of wind that
vanished as soon as he reached to touch it.

--From The White Cliff Poems

This poem is part of the Random Act of Poetry feature at The High Calling Blogs. The subject is solace.

Related:

The Silence of the Trees, posted here for National Poetry Month in April.

Photograph: Last Light by Nancy Rosback. Used with permission.