Jun 20
I'll let you into my forest
but take off your shoes.
The moss does not trust ,
and the roots listen
through the soles of strangers.
Walk lightly.
The trees are older
than the names we've given to stars.
They speak in slow sentences,
in the language of sap, shadow,
and moonlit water.
If a raven crosses your path,
do not follow it, if it looks back, do.
There is a river here that flows in
circles. Drink from it and you may
remember the dream you had
before you were born.
The wind keeps small prophecies
caught among the branches.
Sometimes they fall
like leaves into open hands.
And if you reach the heart of the
forest,where no birds sing
and no map survives,
you may find me waiting.
