amid the covalescence of a mystic wood
where smaller folk flock to the flower of life,
slender blades swayed in the wind, descend
by minuscule breast strokes of a razor's edge
broad swathes of hearts are torn effortlessly
as day breaks upon dew, penetrating canopies
a poorly tended garden set apart, my heart
entangled with misdeeds called undergrowth
falls like raindrops dependant upon monsoons
"mayday!" shout the little ones evading feet
the trampling under which adeptly averted
as mystery shimmers into prisms of light
no mere slight of hand glimmering right
between depths of one heart's providence
ever since i awakened the dream, it seems
fundemental i should follow flowing streams
leading to the abode of my forest found home
where never was i alone to ponder destiny
swaying rung to rung, swinging tree to tree...