Walk in the Shade of the Wood

If you can’t see the trees for the forest,

then walk in the shade of the wood;

it is there that your heart softly lingers

when you feel that you’re misunderstood.

Breathe  pine-scented breaths while the lichen

caresses the trail at your feet;

there God’s song of welcome entices,

where breezes and bird chorus meet.

Winding, Winding, Ever Winding…

Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography

Winding, winding, ever winding.

Incessantly insistently stubbornly winding,

Path called to reluctant Feet.

As always, she could only see a few steps in front of her nose;

Obscurity wore the pants in this relationship.

Path liked to cloak itself in mysterious profundity,

Slinking under sheets of rain,

Shrouded in turban-cloths wound into mist,

Wrapping itself tightly into fists of fog.

And always, her feet followed at Path’s insistence.

Somewhere ahead, somewhere she hadn’t been yet, was

The Self that she sought in her dreams.

Always elusive, always fleeting,

She caught glimpses reflected from the microscopic mirror-specks of

Vapour hanging pregnant in the saturated air.

Fractured form and function,

Her shattered Self mocked with seven year’s bad luck.

And yet –

The Prophesy that drove her on, that fuelled her falter,

That cried through the whispers between leaves,

Promised a rainbow of Self fulfilled;

Quest beat with courage of steel in housing of paper.

So on Feet crept, blindly faithful,

Winding, winding, ever winding…