one maple leaf

 the hidden within comes out

one sugar leaf maple leaf pulls my eye to it,

it's as big as a small face,

golden-yellow against smooth grey bark,

it is living a wonderful metaphor

for how one might be in the last days of life,

when no longer producing with one's life,

as the working self drops away,

now can be the time for the hidden to manifest,

the underlying basics to be revealed,

for the leaf a glory within now visible for its last hours,

I want to be like a sugar maple leaf

as winter messages the loss coming,

a last flare before the light dies,

two hours later I return to where I celebrated the leaf,

and it is gone, to the ground,

another lesson to savor while one can.

I found a replacement leaf to call up the memory.

by Henry H. Walker

October 1, ‘26

blaze against the dying of the light!

 

A Leaf Samhein

the North American continent reaches boldly toward the Arctic,

we travel to the north, close to the latitude of Canada,

where deciduous trees assertively reach skyward

as if in defiance of winter's coming 

when they must sleep a third of the year,

in no part of our country 

do the woods celebrate the passing year

as fully, and as well, as the celebratory colors

tree after tree shouts at the heavens here in the Northeast,

earlier peoples a month from now in the islands off Europe,

lit great fires in celebration? in defiance?

as the dark increasingly impinged on the day,

the Celts called it Samhein (SOW-een),

it feels to me that the trees here in Maine

light the bonfires of their inner selves

and declare which side they're on,

the Dark will come

but the Light inside endures.

by Henry H. Walker

October 1, ‘26

true to "thine own self"

 opening the gift of self

as a teacher at Carolina Friends School for over half a century,

I pride myself on my seeing the students as themselves,

as individuals not defined, restricted by family or societal expectations,

nor even by their own early self-definition,

of who they expected to be,

of who they hoped to be,

but rather, instead, open to what they could find within 

in their celebration of uniqueness,

each tentatively could open the present

that is who they are,

each could then find and use a true mirror

that confirms that each is on the right path forward,

and commit to trust and celebrate their individuality,

plus all the bonds of friends, each on their own similar journeys,

yesterday I savored watching four former students

who have found themselves as musicians,

who have found their way forward,

truly, and with joy,

what a gift to the current students

for three of them to share their music and selves in classes

the day after the performance,

helping inspire each student 

to continue on their own journeys.

by Henry Walker

September 28, 2026

learning from the plant kingdom

 

Mutualism

mycorrhizal fungi and tree roots,

chloroplasts and plant cells:

at the heart of these two great collaborations

is cooperation, mutualism,

the simultaneous benefitting of each 

from their work as a team,

for years Western science looked at the plant and animal world

through the lens of how a capitalist would view reality:

everything boiled down to competition,

each species, each individual, out for itself,

the savage reality of "red in tooth and claw,"

to deny that competition exists misses part of the truth,

to believe that competition is the only driver

ignores the truth of what we already know,

the truth of much current plant research,

and the truth of Wikipedia,

the truth of forest life has been reduced by people

to producing the most wood in the shortest time:

take what you can, while you can,

the only consequence to consider 

is the current budget,

success measured by this year's profits,

the value of the stock,

the satisfaction of current desires,

a clear-cut world is more of death than life,

an old growth forest is far more rich and complex

than what is implied in this simplistic value system,

an eco-system's "carrying capacity" is ignored, too,

when competition is our real God,

humans can consider limits 

as imaginary lines to be disregarded,

we only matter if we ourselves are ascendant,

mycorrhizal fungi and tree roots argue differently,

that each life-form can benefit 

from mutually-assured cooperation,

for too long we have worshipped selfishness as the prime directive,

capitalism is efficient as to production,

but it needs help in management,

we need to reorient ourselves so that

mutualism,

symbiosis,

cooperation,

community,

drive our ego to be larger than our individuality,

that we enshrine in ourselves 

both selfishness and selflessness,

we need to be as complex and inter-connected 

as an old growth forest,

we need to follow the lead

of the mutualism at the heart

of the kingdom of plants.

by Henry H. Walker

September 25, ‘26

"I suggest accessing Wikipedia is you want to get further in understanding what I mean by micorrhizal fungi and plant roots,

and chlorplasts and plant cells."

don't just plant the roses

 

being vs doing

I have long been intrigued by two poles:

being and doing,

finding self internally, or

finding self externally,

being in the moment for its own sake,

or being in the moment for the future's sake,

retirement has upped the ante on such self-definition,

for over half a century

I defined much of myself as of value

because of the calling I lived as educator:

student after student coming into my working world

and the guidance, and love, and support, I gave them

made me feel good about myself,

for who I was in the doing

made a difference for the good

in who they were able to be,

the moments of the planting

subordinate to the hope in the future,

at the same time I also found self-worth in other doing,

in the reflecting of thought and feeling

upon the page, such as this,

in the capturing of moments with my camera:

the eyes of student, of teacher, of family,

the glory of place, mountain and sea,

and animal and flower and tree, within their world,

held so that their being fully themselves could on the page,

such words and such photography, 

are of the doing, are of my doing,

but also they are of the subject before me being itself,

looking out the windows

through which the universe can show itself to us,

I work hard these days to both remember the gifts of my doing

and also the gifts I can receive, that every moment still alive,

lets me be ready to open to revelation,

such as this poem of my journey,

and appreciation of this moment,

in many ways my "doing" allows my "being,

I don't just plant the roses,

I smell them, and appreciate all the fleeting moments.

by Henry H. Walker

September 23, ‘26