Hiking the Wilson River Trail

A mossy log, pointing downhill, drips
minute drops stored from the last storm

while far below, the river runs clear,
flowing along a mosaic of boulders,

hitting the side of an outcrop,
releasing foam and spray,

then smoothing out for a stretch
before rolling into rapids, frothing white . . .

The forest is a huge heart pumping back to the sea.
After bypass surgery, I could only take small steps.

Sun playing through the canopy,
my surgeon’s voice comes back to me,

“Keep moving.”