Sep 25

The Woods Were My Home

The woods were my home
More than my house
They were where I danced
Where I played
Where I went to escape
the crushing sensation brought down on me by school

They are where I stored my most precious memories of childhood
Tucked under the roots, between the leaves
Are those I will never give up
Memories of collecting sap
Playing house
Wandering to clear my head
Creating new worlds
From a singluar magical one

The woods are where I learned to dream
And made new friends where real ones failed
Where I learned that if we only have the power to dream it
It can be true
Even if only in our heads

Recently I stepped through the threshold
Of this childhood home of mine
For the first time in many years
Drawing aside the curtains of branches
Blowing the dust off the rock that used to be a kitchen
In younger eyes
Tracing small footprints with older, heavier ones
That held so much more weight
From so many beatings
Inflicted by the world outside

I took a breath
Of the lifesaving oxygen flowing around me
Brushing those sorrows off my back
Lifting me up
Until I once more stood straight
I looked around
And I saw not trees and leaves
But buckets and scarves
And excited children
I saw not boulders and trunks
But couches and tables
Where I hosted my friends with the utmost grace
That a nine year old could have
I listened closely
And heard leaves creating ideas
In the head of a little girl
I listened closely
And heard branches snapping
As a broken-hearted child lashed out at the trees in blind anger
Gouging the beings that held her close
As they patiently bore it to help her heal
I listened closely
And heard the trees calling my name
Beckoning me back
Begging me to come back home

The woods are my inspiration
The woods are my safety
The woods are my home