Running, rushing through the leaves,
crashing violently into trees.
I cannot see the path ahead—
life is hanging
by a thread.
I must keep pushing on,
press ahead.
I can’t stand still
or I’ll be dead.
I cannot see the path in front,
can only hear
my heart’s deep thump.
I glimpse a shimmer to my side—
that’s got to be it,
my heart cries.
There I turn
to see my truth,
my destiny—
but it’s aloof.
In silent despair
I choke down cries,
my deadly angst,
my inner lies.
For I am lost—
’tis true, for sure,
this pain
I barely endure.
In this forest
of darkest fear
there is a voice,
but it’s hard to hear.
I have to stop.
My legs are weak.
I take a breath
to hear it speak.
And now I find
a hidden wisdom:
the true path
is the one
you’re missing.
It disappears
to make it clear—
the birds and trees
are always here.
They are not lost.
You need not fear.