Forests for Empty Spaces

Pleasure, satisfaction,

Common creature comforts,

Health and habitation;

Leave them with your home.

Nothing to distract you,

Nothing to build on,

Bound to wit and wilderness,

What do you become?

Sunlight burning, reddened raw.

Rocks cutting, scraping skin.

Sitting in the biting swarms.

Body aches in all its parts.

Brutality from the beautiful,

Faerie forests nearly sacred,

Hiding waterfalls and sunsets,

And myriads of stars.

Little to be done,

Even fewer things to say,

Letting go for silence

To graze on natural sounds.

Falling out,

Letting loose the inner void

And filling it somberly

With the only things around.

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