Lost in the woods
Dark is descending
I must find the old oak
Climb where it stood
Two parallel rivers do mark the trail
Hope and doom they are so called
One cannot flow while the other runs stale
I must find this tree before night sets in
Follow the current and the answer its hums.
Oh, what riddles this eve provides.
A great storm is coming
My soul will transcend
A spirit I will become but a ghost never again.
Will I ever find this great tree?
Take shelter in its shade?
I will climb to the highest canopy
See the endless rows of wild blooms.
The climb would be treacherous
Shaky and high,
And it seems to me that once at the top,
The way down is to jump or fly
So If I am to pass: so be it.
The adventure lingers on.
I do know one thing for certain:
The climb would have definitely been worth such a view.

                                                                                                      -DBE