The Woods

We go to the woods
when the world becomes too much.
Once there,
we look up at trees
reaching toward the sky.
Our heads tilt up in a motion
like a remembered prayer.
Then we breathe
and heal
and walk

And when we leave
we are stronger
at least for a moment.

At least for as long as we can remember
the way the sun came through the leaves
the way the light hit our upturned faces.

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