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Lost
by David Wagoner

Stand still. The trees ahead
and bushes beside you
are not lost. Wherever you are
is called Here, and you must
treat it as 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 again, 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 surely lost. Stand still.
The forest knows where you are.
You must let it find you.

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