The Forest

In the middle of the night

the forest is dark.

She asks that feet fall

slowly,

tentatively.

With little light

everything is unfamiliar

Though thoroughly known in sunlight hours

she is a lost world…

a tangle of branches,

stones,

rotting logs.

Enough to stop anyone in their tracks.

Still there is the sound

of the river to the North

and some clearings in the canopy.

Lightening falls and thunder shakes,

illuminating the unknown,

making it known in totality

but for a moment.

Lost in the forest,

wandering up and down banks,

all attempts to win this

game of hide and seek fail.

The forest asks for stillness.

Listening to the heart:

the fears and the beckonings.

Starting from that place

means not having to spend the whole night with her.