I arrive searching at a crossroads
the dense fecund flora around me whispers,

This is a labyrinthine quest

long bark fingers reach out from the shadowscapes
they hand me a stone tablet
transcribed with incomprehensible scripture
I grace my fingers over the stone
the words chime within me,

There is no prize
no obvious winners
only scathed players

the words resound
beneath the fierceness of the wind

If they speak from the soil
they murmur hidden truths

the leaves encircle themselves
in a waltz around my body
and assure me,

You cannot listen too keenly
you may imagine yourself­
a half truth
a projection
that isn't real

out of fear
I rise to the tops of the echoing wood
then fall as the ravenous roots
force me onto a cobblestone pathway
only lit
by the corvine call.