When we go through the aspen stand,
beyond the post and rail,
we walk as one in a solemn hush
along the wooded trail.

I smell the fallen peaty leaves,
you hear the stir of birds
within the tangle of empty boughs,
but neither finds the words.

We sense the holy gifts of this,
our common time and place,
in ways the other cannot know–
to each a sacred grace.

The trail returns us home anon,
my heart inspired anew
with keen desire to walk again
and share once more with you.