Last week, I had the privilege to again lead an Educators of Excellence Institute in Yellowstone. On a sunny afternoon, our group laid on the ground near a hot spring to feel the thumping of steam bubbles collapsing beneath us. As we spent time reflecting on our Yellowstone experience in our journals, these words came to me…

Will You Join Us?

Will you lie on the frozen ground
to feel the heartbeat of the earth?
Will you stand in the predawn glow
and listen to the silence?

Will you revel in the crystalline beauty
of ice-kissed trees,
the fairy-light of dusk
on snowy mountain peaks?

Will you breathe deep
of the crisp air,
and of the sulfur belches
of the underworld?

Will you allow yourself to linger in this
one
shining
moment?
Will you leave a sliver of yourself

And in that breaking
forge a tie
to this place,
this moment?

Will you leave a gift of Thanksgiving for the
wild within, and without?

Will you join us?

---

There have been things weighing heavily on my heart lately. The latest newsletter for our new hometown in Montana lists a $31,000 reward for information regarding a Yellowstone wolf that was illegally shot in December. Her radio collar was found cut off, tossed into a tree in the National Forest adjacent to the park. At the same time, I learned about the death of ICU nurse Alex Pretti in Minneapolis. I read how he loved to spend time in wild places, just like I do. These two tragedies, the poaching of 1478F and the murder of Alex, have become linked in my mind.

1478, Alex

You stepped away from the warm fire,
table cluttered with dirty dishes.
One drop of red wine on the white tablecloth.

You walked into the dark, into the forest.
Dark coat, rubber boots,
rifle over your shoulder.
Perhaps just walking off the roast,
and the smothering company of family?

She trots across the far hill
Alone, confident.
Unaware of the invisible line she crosses.
Unaware of the danger
until she senses your aim,
her intuition as a hunter,
prey.

Your shot– straight and true.
Her yelp– short and sharp.
Did you feel vindication?
Was there even a twinge of remorse? Guilt?
Or just power?

You don a dark mask,
wool scratching the lips that
kissed your daughter goodbye.

Adrenaline rushes as you and your
brothers in arms,
brothers in injustice,
Roll onto the streets.

He walks the yellow line,
Fearful, brave.
Unaware of the invisible line he crosses.
Unaware of the danger
until he is on the ground,
until the blows land,
victim.

The rush, fists pounding;
holding a man to the ground.
Sweat beads on wool.
The rush of hatred screams free
as you pull your pistol and

Fire
again and again and again.
When the rush recedes, what remains?
Do you wander these streets in your dreams?

They both loved the wild–
A man, a wolf.
Perhaps, once, in a sacred moment,
their eyes met.
Brown.
Gold.
A flash of recognition
as instinct sensed what fate had arranged:
To meet once in peace,
and again in death.

---

Two poems for today. One, an invitation. The other, an elegy. I hope that through both, our human connection with nature brings you a small moment of peace.