A Silent Space In A Wood

I follow a path trodden flat by the sharp hooves of deer,

dark and thorny branches that sometimes scrape, come very near,

new leaves on the trees, my body twists and sways along the path as I squeeze,

down this wild trail that leads through a last brambly branch,

grabbing on and through cloth, scratching skin,

with a last tug I walk free into a clearing and feel the wind,

the clearing is small with grass and brush, I slow down on the path, no urgency, no rush,

I am here to observe and listen, among dewy leaves that shine and glisten,

I lie back in the grass and feel the good, in a silent space in a wood.