into the trees

I must allow myself simply to
wander into the trees
That is where mystery lies
sometimes dormant, sometimes teeming
I must step through mist that
wraps round my ankles
without fearing what might lay in my path
I could fall into an abyss
—I have before—
but I am strong, I can pull myself out
I might bruise my bones, bloody my palms
but I will heal
Or as dew drops pat my face
I might happen upon a gleaming river 
just beyond the parted trees
I might rest on a large stone and
melt into it
I might lay myself down into a
bed of moss
and listen to wind finger through the leaves
to bird songs
to rain and crickets
and forget all the rest
I must feel the bark chafe
against my face
I must sink into the mud from whence I came
I must wander into the trees 
and very simply

1 comment:

  1. I love this poem and the photograph is BEAUTIFUL!