During an Interlude from the Mundane

The rough cracked undergrowth
doesn’t hurt much
now that a clearing has appeared
for a while

The water is familiar and beautiful,
a deep well of buried impulses;
I lie beside and take long draughts

I know the forest awaits,
but I am scared of the trees.
Can you distinguish amongst them?
Perhaps, that’s for the best.

I would be a fantastic tree,
yes I know and many say so
while others ask why I left the clearing
and why I shall again

The water tastes wonderful.
I’ve felt its power before and
made promises, taken vows
and I shall do so again – of course

I know you can’t help me keep them.
Solitude, here, is prized and cursed,
and like always, leaves me unsure.

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