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.

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