In the forest I am a child.
There in the moss, I laid the weight of everyone’s tears.
Breathing in the sweet tilthy floor,
its spongey small tentacles and sharp snaps,
I was enveloped in her playful goodness.
Amidst the song sparrow and red-legged frog,
the world is still and alive.
There, the large world of my young life is smaller, but also wide.
There are no monsters to stare down. No children to save.
No one to rescue but me.
Like an elder, she surrounded me with her quiet power and granted me a stoic sanctuary.
In the forest I did not need to be brave, or strong, or good.
In the forest I am a child.
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