Landfall

Dawn of the self, dreams are fertile
Knowing my path single-minded
Charted out with obscure eddies
Yet destined to achieve landfall
Shoreline, dense trees, foreboding.

Thick, mottled leaves, hued invitingly
Press my toes through charcoal mud
Spongy resistance, giving to conformity
Many trees too similar to differentiate
Yet I must, for to not see-is to be lost.

That forest was wider and denser
Then could be imagined prevailing
Over my senses, chocking thought.
I came to recognize others-sifting
The branches, looking at the forest

Ah, I’m not the only explorer here
Realization brings joy, then terror!
Will they find it first, vile thieves!
Give all to prevent this tragic event
But I lost my way trying to confuse

The others seemed not to notice
But continued walking and looking
Some broke down and cried, others
Bashed their heads against stumps.
Some sat giggling, playing with moss

Not for me, I’ll deny its mastery, stealth
Is my byword, disguise my obsession
If I become one with the trees, standing
Still for twenty years-then I will know, yes.

This must be the way, I can feel the moss
Growing up my trunk. I can feel the ants
Burrowing in to the soft pulpy heart, yes!