There is a secret deep in this thicket and high on this pasture and spread through this bottom land It is a secret old as the stones buried deep in clay as hidden as their core as subtle as their descent It hides in plain sight through the drumming of the Yellowhammer the pecking of the hen It moves in unison through the hooves and the breath of tame cattle and in the the rubbing of the wild buck deer Humans may choose not to understand it for its very nature is grace and substance Its translation muted through our violence It is the secret of cycle, the art of design Of life, vigor, death, carbon, and decay And back to life again It is an ancient secret, an even more ancient art It is the art through which Providence gathers back supply for redesign for regeneration for redemption It is an art with no beginning and no end It is The Art of Recovery Through which no life has ever come to life again Hunter WonderTree 2020 |