My trail and my nesting place.
I found what I was looking for
Burried beneath every stone
Upturned and waiting behind tall
TREES.

There they are.
They strain my heart when I walk past
And away from each one.
Something close to a humming
Which is actually a calling.

Someone here understands my language.
Someone here knows every word.
Something about this scene listens when I'm
screaming.
And, oddly enough, each element in this tableau
Is so willing to "look the other way."

So then what did I find?
The proximity and distance offered on this trail
Was everything I needed in my hour of distress,
And self-loathing, and nauseating frustration.
I had all the room in the world to project it onto the
TREES.

By this point I had reached a juncture in my path.
The road before me only turned in one direction.
The rocks became larger and my feet rolled underneath.
Turned my mind beneath them, forced my thoughts underground.
The journey became daunting.

Yet my screams still permeated the TREES.
My plea for something, anything still reverberating back to me.
Is that what I sound like? Is that my voice?
It seems so much larger in open spaces.
And the sound of my derangement lapping at my heels.

It's still here. Relief. It's still here.
Throwing rocks n my mind is never the same as
Actually screaming at the air/sky/trees/dirt/rocks/small animals/God.
Re-structuring each particular corner of each dilemna.
And puncturing momentary holes in reality.

These will not be lapses in judgement.
They can only be recognized as
Interruptions in myself though they are so many and so frequent.
This is perfectly hard to concieve and the effort
Makes me tired. So I rest and I walk.

The road continues past memories and pain.
The movements are hard on my strength and my wrinkles.
Time grabs hold of my accomplishments again and again
And whips them hard against the TREES.
I learned to catch falling tears like shooting stars.

My feet carved a path in front of me.
The inches and miles behind me filthy with consequences.
The weights of my shoulders bore down on me tightly.
The spirits of Nature clawing me and striking me without mercy.
What would happen if I drop to the ground and refuse to continue?

Leave me here. Leave me still.
I was ashamed to return to my feet.
Yet nothing moved. Everything was constant.
Bring me closer, I continued to beg.
Envelope me completely, offer me solace.

Shelter from the sun, living water to relieve the sting.
Protection from the shadows, the comfort that I crave.
All these things seem to have been missing, forgotten or lost, excluded or omitted from my days.
I draw a breath, release it back to the wild.

I have yet to see the end of this road.