A Poem!

Once again, all you yellow lovers (and yellow haters who happen to be reading this), it's time for another poem! There were a few interesting things that happened while I was writing this poem, so I hope you enjoy.

Footpath

I arose one day
To find myself surrounded
By trees, I was in a forest,
The song of birds sounded.

The trees were high
The canopy was thick;
Only allowing the occasional sight
Of sky, of clouds, of sun light.

Looking closer to my level
I saw thick foliage all around me
And though some small footpaths went from my spot
The way ahead I could not see.

“Perhaps I’m in a dream,”
I thought; the twilight of that shaded
Place made it seem surreal.
But no, there is no imagining that is that real.

I felt an urgency to move on
From that place of my stirring
Toward some real or imagined goal
That my spirit was luring.

One of the occasional rays of light
Illuminated a small game path
Barely perceived upon the forest ground
I began to follow it like a hound.

One step, two, the path seemed clear.
Then, abruptly,
It was gone.

I looked around, where should I go?
I could still feel that pulling
Something that called me on,
Though the twilight was lulling.

Another path
There! Off to my right
I started down with haste,
Grateful for the sight

The path was etched
By others who had passed
I followed with happiness
Moving quickly at last,

But as I went the trail thinned,
Lightened,
Then disappeared altogether;
Or so I thought.
Confused I paused;
What now?

All around me a wall of shrubs
Blocked all view of feasible ways;
To blaze a trail through the this thick hedge
Was as desirable as throwing myself from a ledge

There was one path that seemed
To go straight through the most thorn’d bush
But the path was so faint, I was unsure
And to a slightly less prickly way I was lured

And so I pushed through, where it seemed best
Through pressing plants and clinging vines
Until before me a blackberry plant formed a wall
Impassible, formidable, and tall.

And so I went back,
And went through the prickles
To follow the faint path;
A tree had fallen along that way
And made across the blackberries a highway.

And so I went on
Ever trying to find that place
That called and said “come find me.”
I’d follow a path
It would disappear
Each on in succession
Would take me ever more near

But each path in that forest
Would never go as far
As I would have liked.


The twilight in that grove slowly faded
As the unseen sun lied down to rest
And declare an end to that day’s work.
So, I made my night’s nest.

When I awoke again
I had returned to my bed
Where reality is what everyone says
And not what goes on in my head.

And so, my friend, I leave
You to wonder, if real or false
Was this twilit wood
Or even if as to being it should.