I must find a way into the forest.

It is not easy for it is overgrown with thickets and brambles.

Sharp branches threaten to poke out the eyeballs and put me into an ill humour.

 

I must find a way into the forest

and push on into the shadow

for it is hot and they are close behind.

but my cloth is thin

the sweat on my arms mingles with blood and stings.

I have been whipped with fine branches

 

 

I must find a way in

the low bushes grab at my bootlaces

the edges of my soles get caught in bony wooden clutches

I fall and my palms are punctured.

A fine sliver drives up under a nail and I curse

 

I must find a way in now or not at all

It is cool inside and my lips are parched

In the forest I may drink from the lily with a hoptoad

My lips will be wet again with the kisses of the hermit’s maid

She will wet my brow with a clean cloth

And lay me down on bows of soft birch

 

I must find my into the forest

I need to a place to lick

My wounds

The shelter of the tree makes

me supple

And my wounds are many

and in diverse places

 

I must find my way into the forest

The quiet there is shattered with the dreams

of fungi

clean moss will cool my face

scent will fill my nostrils

and the light will only dapple my eyelids

 

 

I must find my way into the forest

For the trees  love me

they have strong branches

strong enough to hold the light

and gently ask it

not to

blind me