Follow me; this is where we were always headed. Into the darkness, into the forest. There is a stone in my pocket, but we have not come here to drown. In the distance, I hear the wolves. They do not howl; their feet pad lightly on the snow.I loved you once, but this is worse. This walking ahead into the night, with you following behind. Your silence is ravenous, nibbling at my back. Have you nothing to say?
Scraps of old songs lodge in my throat. Nobody knows when the snow will fall / smoke burns our winter prayers.
I cut my teeth on you. But you were already wild. And now you float above the snow in silence. Your hollow bones, your bloodless body, naked and ugly and cruel. Leading you through this place is like tugging at the shackles of a ruined angel.
Still nothing to say?
I would hardly have expected anything more.
Can you hear the grass widows calling? Their voices like wind passing through a field of wheat. They remember your promises. They remember your name.
They will not forgive you when I bury your bones beneath them. But they will fall silent for a while.
Oh, I love this one! I love it so much i want to steal it, copy it, stick it up on the wall by my bed…it completely captures that sense that when we go into the Wild Forest what we encounter there entirely depends on what we bring in with us. I LOVE it!!
Thank you! I do love the way the worlds we imgaine for ourselves teflect our anxieties and hopes for the future. Glad i captured some of that cross-world echoibg . ????