Poem: Muir Woods by Mark Tulin


Enter quiet, enter peace.
I need a refuge.
I’m so weak and vulnerable.
The sunlight blinds my eyes.
I need a church of serenity.
Need to sit inside the hollowed-out bark of a fallen tree.
Watch the sun play off a spiderweb wheel
as I breathe in fond memories from a ventilator tube…

I whistle like Dylan to the cacophony of bluebirds and sparrows.
Chase the otters down the stream, skipping off stones.
I find comfort in the shade, walk through the cool forest mist
to the cathedral of giant redwoods and mushrooms the size of cauliflower…

My loved ones, my wife and son are gone.
They are only with me through crinkled photographs and home movies.
Wish I could grow to be old and wise.
Wish I could produce pollen and drop acorns from the sky.
Be around for centuries, each layer marks another hundred years.
I wish I could see the changing faces of tourists and park rangers.
Experience the light bouncing off water, the bloom of flowers against my roots.
I wish I could experience the rebirth of the redwood fires
that form the hallowed-out bark, the ever-changing trees in Muir Woods.


I am an author, poet, humorist, and short story writer from Palm Springs, California. I write about various topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia to my years as a family therapist and finally to my soul-searching in California. These are poetic narratives that may have humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry and stories resonate with you.

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