Running down this wild track
twisting, turning, up and down
not knowing how to get out
i stop.
looking about me
surrounded by light
feeling no warmth
falling from the sky
like ash from a fire
the touch, cold.
again i move
not know the way
following the petals
where they lead,
i will never know
trusting instinct i turn
leaving the path
through the trees
walking across roots
they reach out
like little hands
grasping nothing
but then inward they turn
the end very low
i follow deep underground
slowly things go dark
then bright again
and now in a meadow
touching the wild grasses
i reach out
like the roots once did
then sitting i wait
waiting for you to come
and come you must
for you wished it so.
A contest entry
- Pre-write-a-pal-ooza by Nicole Hanna.
300 points, ended July 8, 2008, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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