Leaving the Forest

August 9, 2011
I used to run through meadows and pick up apples from the damp grass.
I used to hear the wind like chimes through branches in the trees.
I used to love the little animals and I always will.

But now my memories of the forest are muddied and covered with weeds.
Now I'd give anything to see one sweeping grassy hill or one beam of light floating down through trees.
I would sacrifice to hear a trickling brook flow through mighty canyons.

Most of all I miss how the forest always knew me.
It could hold me in burned out hollows when I had to clear my mind
When I fell and stumbled rivers would wash away all my pain and sorrows over green silver waters.

I miss the forest and I long for it like a lover.
Because I fell in love and now the world is standing in my way.
I am standing in my way.
Because the forest,
So ancient and wise,
Will stay the same for me even though
I left the forest.

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