Forest Quest

Forest Quest Every day I can, I walk in the woodsAlways in the same forestIts like I have to roamTo be able to come home. Sometimes the branches creak, limb upon limbThey look like grim clawing fingers, reaching for preyThe spiking stumps invite me to stumble into their empty cavesRoots are Rattlers writhing, driving me faster, fasterBriars wreath my arms and legs like the fetters of slaves. Another day tree nymphs and fairies say,“Dance this sun-shiney day. Be a child again,Stay awhile with us and play.”And I am late for supper, full of explanationsAbout how good exercise is for me. And then the feeling that every ancient log and limbNeeds to be examined and dissected for varieties of grainOn my knees I rear back and see the green canopy dome of GodThe rich bark texture of Oak, of Birch, of shagbark hickoryAs I forget the forest for the trees Another day the woods woos me like my wifeA branch with forearm curve and elbow formed soThat I want to caress, and take it home with meI find a quiet little trysting place surrounded by cedarsBedded by boughs; I will bring her here. Every day I can, I walk in the woodsIt is always the sameBut I know who I am,when I come home.