My mind is a forest…

My mind is a forest.

Sometimes I am lost in it.


In some places,

Sun shines through trees

Gold through green

Leaves dance down little fairy paths

And there are wild-berry picnics on green grass blankets.

This is where others come to visit

Where it’s safe

My mushrooms may be strange colors

But everyone has mushrooms.


There is a river

Where sunlight drips through and scatters

In some places, the currents run deep and silent

Further on, there is a roar and a froth.

Rocks break the water in surprising places

Here is beauty, but also danger

Sometimes the rocks are sharp

Sometimes they cut your hands

Only friends come here

Only those who know me

say I’m worth it

And in some places the rocks are worn smooth

from kindness and gentle touches.


There are dusky places

Always caught in cat’s light

Where naked branches are silhouetted against the first stars

And fireflies party around dark tree pillars.

There are odd rustles in the bushes

and sometimes the gleaming lights are eyes

not fireflies

A sickle moon spills strange thoughts

Cold breezes whisper words across my skin

This is where stories are born

Here I walk alone

Here, I rest.

This is where I find myself

Where I enter into my birthright.


But far in,

the trees grow tangled



Sometimes when I am too long alone

I wander past the dusky places into something murkier

Where thick spiderwebs pull branches close

Mud slips beneath my bare feet

And the eyes in the shadows are always behind me.

I cannot be found

because I forget that I am lost.

All is night under the misshapen branches

It climbs into my eyes

I cannot remember that light lives anywhere.

I light a candle, and it smothers.

I remember only cold in the dusky places-

only eyes watching, and loneliness.

I remember only night on the river-

only cold rocks and wet blood on my hands.

I remember only a glare of the sunshine places-

only that I grow tired when I am long there

and that sometimes there are insects screaming in my ears.

All paths are uphill

crowded with brambles

So why bother?


But while I am huddled on the slimy ground

I open my eyes.

Far, far above

The moon rides.

And it is light,

Always above.

The moon knows my forest.

I stand

but I cannot reach it.

I am still alone

And I know that I am lost.


There is only one who comes looking for me here

(Or perhaps he was sent)

Because he is the only one who dares to push through my twisting paths

Calling my name louder than the voices in my head

Clasping my hand stronger than the clinging spiderwebs

He pulls me from all the lost places in my mind

and draws me back into the light.


My mind is a forest.

Sometimes, I am lost in it.

Storm Moments


These are moments

I wouldn’t trade for a world

Moments of coming home

A step ahead of the storm

Moments of running out to greet it

Moments of dancing

On mud

On grass

On raindrops

On wind

And he comes running too

And spins me through the wild dark of storm

And kisses me under the cold fall of sky

Not because he loves it like me

But because he loves me.

A Rained World


Today I wander out

into the rained world

Looking for what?

I don’t know

But I am looking.

The colors are different

in a rained world

All shades of green

Orange deepening into brown

Gray and black and white and gray.

There is so much water

Little rivers

Small lakes

Tiny waterfalls

I come from a dryer land than this.

My spring daffodils hide their faces

Raindrops fell fiercely here

I lift one

Mud on its petals

Grime on satin

Still beautiful.

I walk a rain-sticky road

and stop to look at the other worlds

reflected in water pools

If I jumped

would I fall through?

A strange-shaped stump

Like the throne of some woodland elf-king

calls me from my safe lane.

Grass is tall under the trees

Thick with last year’s leaves

My hem turns cold against my ankles.

Back in the warmth of my house

My eyes are dark

My fingers, stiff

But I think I have found

what I was looking for.

A creation always reflects its creator

In rainwater I see His reflection

more clearly.

How Came You Here?


But why are you here?

Glowing in the town-lit darkness

far from your green-growing sisters.

Were you

a grubby, child-fisted gift?

But who would drop that?

Perhaps you were

a token of unwanted love

cast away.

Or maybe

one among many

discarded for your imperfections.

Or maybe

a young girl plucked you

held you

petals brushed against her cheek

yellow fastened in her hair

til distraction tossed you aside.

I don’t know

why you were left

in a Starbucks parking lot.

But for me

you are unexpected

and bruised

and beautiful.