saddlebag dispatches
GOING BACK TO THE HEALING WOODS Into the healing woods I ran Where crowds were far away, Where sunshine, snow and rain Cleanse with nature’s play. Where senses feel the touch Of forest smells and taste, Inside the healing woods Where spirits quietly wait. Along the fields by crystal streams Where quail and meadowlarks sing, I feel so loved and blessed Sharing the healing songs they bring. Later I walked to an open field Listening for the meadowlarks. I knew they would bring peace Where life had become lost and dark. Their songs rang out melodious and clear Telling me I was free. I stood listening, transformed, Accepting the healing medicine meant for me.
—Chet Dixon is a businessman, philanthropist, and published author of multiple works, including the poetry collections Beyond the Trailhead, Affections Not Sleeping, and Skipping Rocks on Water. He resides near Branson, Missouri, but his heart lives in the western wilderness.
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