Why does heaven feel closer
in the woods?
I ask that
as if I do not know the answer.
Maybe I simply want to tell myself why.
The sky is closer
up here in this tree,
and the forest is where I pour myself out,
to be filled back up—
but not with what I had before. Never
what I had before.
God, fill me with a need for You,
desire for You,
one I cannot shake from my soul
like yesterday’s idols.
Keep me clinging.
Tighten my grip.
Love me enough to keep me moving,
keep me growing,
even with all the broken yesterdays.
Yes, they tell how far I wandered, but today is today—
and today I am clinging,
today I am gripping,
today I am close.
Because in these woods, heaven is mine.
I can carry this forest with me,
its song-filled wind fueling my lungs
and exhaling everything I once was.
In these woods, today is mine.
Today I can plant a flower on the page and in my soul,
and the forest that held my secrets
has become my safe haven.
I don’t need to ask
why heaven feels closer in these woods.
God is here.
No, scratch that—
my God is here.
Cindy Green is a forest-wandering, poetry-scribbling stargazer with messy notebooks and messy thoughts. Despite her love for all of God’s creation, sunflowers and stars in particular have a way of sneaking into both her writing and her heart (but you won’t hear her complaining about it). She is an amateur sword-wielder with a Highland-dancing warrior spirit who also writes letters to the moon and considers the sky her best friend. A focused daydreamer, organized pack rat, and oblivious observer, she is a self-professing ambivert (or a living contradiction) who deeply feels both the beauty and fallen state of the world. Through her words, she hopes to describe the indescribable and form personal connections with people while reflecting a love for her Savior and a passion for everything she touches.