The Forest Again – A Poem

The leaves have been whispering again.

They have led me to the edge

of the trees and I try to look in,

to see past the dark foliage

but I cannot.

I look at my hands,

at the scars that still remain

from the last time I was lost

within the trees.

I look back at the path I took

to get here and I can see

what looks like stars,

sparkling every few feet.

They glow in the shadows around me.

I wonder if the starts were part of me

that found their way out,

pieces of my light

that broke away from my chalice.

I lean into the leaves,

feel their coolness on my cheek

then a bright spot of fire clouds my vision.

I touch my cheek to find blood

dripping from a new wound.

The blood shines like rubies

in the half light from the moon.

The whispering around me increases,

as if the forest is laughing at my misfortune.

I remember now: the forest has a price.

It likes to take but doesn’t give,

the shadows it holds are not solace,

but a place where there are horrors hidden.

I look back at the stars that line my path

and I wonder how I got here again,

the pull that the forest has upon me.

Why do I come here when I lose my way?

I stand listening to the sounds of the forest,

the whispering of the leaves

and the cawing of the dark birds within,

when I hear something else that

is louder than the noises of the forest.

I watch as the stars start to flash in tune

to the new music that I can hear.

I begin to follow that path home,

collecting the stars as I go.

They dissolve into my hand and I feel brighter.

The shadows from the forest begin to fade

and I realize where that music is coming from:

it is coming from within.

The stars are the notes of the song

and they are leading me back to myself.

As I gather the stars,

I walk further and further away

from the forest.

When it calls again,

as I know it will,

I will think of the stars and

the song that they sing.

I will be ready.