
Originally Posted by
duncs
I was told this poem by a poet who works within organisations, using poetry to explore leadership & personal development. It is native american in origin & about when a little boy asks his grandparents what he should do when he is lost in the forest. A serious predicament for a young boy back then on America's NW coast with its giant forests. This is the grandparents reply;
LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside are not lost.
Wherever you are is called here, and you must treat it
like a powerful stranger.
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you,
if you leave it you may come back saying Here.
No two trees are the same to raven, No two branches are the same to wren,
if what a tree or a bush does is lost on you you are truly lost.
Stand still.
The forest knows where you are. You must let it find you.
I have replayed this in my head when lost out in the hills running in the dark/mist, and have always found it helpful in terms of stopping, paying real attention to where I am & sorting it out. Hope you like it.
Duncan