I thought the trail was over
just beyond the yellow gate.
But no.
The daisies drew me in and I soon found
that with a little ducking
and bending around,
I could continue on.

I thought I'd turn around for sure
in that first clearing at the top of the hill--
It seemed like such
a perfect stopping point--
so high!
but something in me still was hungry,
so I crossed the grass and found
a path that led me deeper in.

The conifer-lined walking trail
bade me sigh with aches and joys,
rewarding me
with simple pleasures, now and then--
a bunch of purple flowers
or a little pool of polliwogs.
It's rolling ridges continued on, the end always hidden behind
one more turn.

The forest, very kind to me,
has never truly let me see
anything to satisfy without a whispered mystery.
A promise, or a hope, at least,
a path so many wonders deep
coaxes, smiles, unfolds to me
and keeps me coming ever back.

Someday, when I'm transformed
I'll know
it's twists and turns are infinite
and wonders over and below I haven't half considered yet.
But now, where all seems closing in, I'll ever be surprised
each time it isn't over yet--each time I learn to rise.