Realizations

*Authors Note:  This poem is actually kind of happy (no one dies, or is actually hurt).  it also follows a weird pattern: movement, self, woods, path, personification/metaphor,  personification/metaphor, Life/animals, life/earth, Something short, short, short, movement. 

Walking.  I am alone.  The woods surround me.  The dark dirt path disappears into the distance.  The mist clings to the trees, creating a surreal and magical scene.  Angel tears of light stream onto the leafy carpet.  Time stands still.  Animals are silent.  Life pauses and takes a deep breath of the cool fresh air.  The wind dances through.  The leaves rustle.  The noise drifts back.  I keep walking. 

I glide forward.  My feet barely even touch the ground.  The woods whisper.  The hard packed path pushes me toward the light.  The gray clouds crack, letting their teardrops fall to earth.  Fat beads fall from the broken clouds.  Everything slows down.  Plants shiver.  Single drops of rain create a slow, steady beat.  The trees huddle closer.  Everything is protected.  Life moves on.  I keep walking. 

I push forward.  I can barely see the light, even though I am closer.  The woods are dark.  The path is the only thing that I can see.  Shadows dance and run, choking out everything except darkness.  The air is thick, trying to pull me back with it's grasping fingers. There is no color.  Animals retreat into the bushes.  Nothing lives in the darkness.  A single ray of light breaks through the leaves.  The plants rise up.  The path lightens.  I keep walking.

I walk past the last few trees.  I am alive.  The woods are gone.  The dirt path fades out in to a lush green meadow.  The light dances through the air.  The sad green weeds transform into beautiful wildflowers.   A single moment lasts forever.  Everything is alive.  Life surges and rushes through the air.  A soft breeze lazily drifts through.  Birds sing.  The earth takes deep breaths of the cool spring air.  The world is perfect.  I stop walking.