Into the Wood
When I was a child, I went into the wood-
searching, wondering, stars where I stood...
When I grew, I learned to fear
all the things in those woods,
no longer could I venture, as I saw only danger.
Many years later, here again, alone in the wood
unsure where to start, or which direction I took.
And I thought I saw another, from under my hood,
asking over and over if reason was good.
I cannot say, dear stranger, as I've never been good
at knowing the difference between could's and should's.
But these trees are my home, there's no reason to fear-
the wood has long memory and thrives without tears.
So lay down and rest, under the trees,
you'll see only shadow falls from its leaves.
Into the Wood.