In smallness
and meditative step
a seeker
toes the grass
hajj-like
circling
a vastness
honored
to share in being.
The woman dwarfed by the tree is my writing mate Tamara. She too wrote about this moment, but in a different way. Since we are all writers here, you might find it interesting to read her reflection (I recommend it):
http://suburbansatsangs.wordpress.com/2017/09/30/staying-strong/
Oddments 
October 26, 2017 at 2:55 pm
LOVE this!
October 26, 2017 at 6:52 pm
Thank you!
October 26, 2017 at 6:12 pm
Thank you for the connection, Maureen. I love the beautiful simplicity (and shape) of this poem. It does great honor to the tree! And I’m grateful that we had a chance to share such a fine afternoon with this magnificent oak.
October 26, 2017 at 6:56 pm
It was a grand afternoon, wasn’t it? I had started to write about it, then got distracted (there’s a shock), then read your beautiful post about it, and only now have I had the chance to re-visit that time with the tree. I am intrigued by our different expressions.
October 26, 2017 at 9:04 pm
No green grass here. It is entirely covered by multi-colored leaves. It always looks so strange when there isn’t a blade of grass visible. 🙂
October 26, 2017 at 9:07 pm
You’re sure ahead of us when it comes to leaf-drop. When you can’t even see the grass, you know it’s serious. I believe we have the same love of raking, so I send sympathy!