Recondite Reflections

What is this ditch but a split in the earth.
A millrace stilled. A catchment for water,
For fallen limbs and leaves.

Here are the hidden places of nature’s divination,
A cauldron of dark harmonies,
Descending roots and rising connections.

Beneath these trees, absent of all artifice,
Is a shifting mosaic of silver and shadow,
Reflections shimmering in the rain.

Here is nature’s default mode network,
A mirror spun from the depths unseen,
Decay, chaos, complexity,
And a cradle of life.