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My poem in the woods

Do you like the woods? I do too.
Do you like getting lost inside the woods? I do too.




I went out barefoot near sunrise towards the forest right outside my house. As kids, we'd come here for summers with our grandparents and spend endless lazy afternoons by the lake soaking in sunshine. I turned around to take a quick look at the house. To reassure me that I had a home to come back to, what I must start looking for if I got lost. 




The house was as old as time. Big windows peeping out of the moss that covered the thick stone walls leaving patches only for bougainvillea that teased the green once in a while. The glass was a little hazy, so you know even sunlight that came through was very very golden. It was all really magical somehow. I'd tell you more about what it looked like inside the house but that's not important right now. 

So I had this airy white shirt on and I wore my perfume. I just walked towards the woods. It might sound scary but all my childhood summers I had spent picking out fruits in this tiny forest of mine, so this place could never scare me. I came here to clear my head, to find my answers. I came here whenever I wanted to lose my questions. So I walked a few minutes randomly changing course between trees. It's important you know why I came here barefoot. I wanted to feel the leaves. You see, it's fall now and the leaves feel really good against my feet. It makes me feel really grounded. 





I came here today to write a poem to myself. I wanted to confess to myself my truth and I wanted to do it with poetry. I wanted to immortalize the soul I have helplessly and hopelessly fallen in love with. Now, do not mind me if I start addressing him. In my conversation, in my poems, in my books, in the little notes I leave on the kitchen counter, in my dreams, or in my heart.


More often than not, I wonder, does he think of me as much as I think of him? But does he also feel the need to write poems sitting alone or listen to music beneath the stars to not be driven crazy by my thought? Perhaps it is only I who feels this way, then answer me this; where do I beg for mercy? Whose door do I knock on to seek fairness? If I alone feel this way it's only sweet nothings.

So I found myself this rock and I sat down holding on to some leaves. I took in the sweet air as the first ray of sunshine hit the top of the tress, it started to get golden. I listened to the soft rustle of the leaves. The music of the wind touching the water covered all other sounds like a big warm hug. 

But do you think of me as much as I think of you? Do you too, spend sunrise to sunset chasing away my memories. Do you even know slightly how this rends me? 

All this time I had been writing with this deranged yearning not knowing I had been writing about you. In all my poems and proses it always sounded like I had this maddening longing for someone, for someone like you. All this while asking myself why I was, how I was? Because I was being sculpted for someone like you. I automatically start feeling responsible for you. Bending rules does not seem as much of sin with you. You make me feel like I want to give you the world and I am ready to win it for you. Like I was always supposed to take care of you. Odd. If I could have you peek inside my mind, you’d see a lot more of you than you’d see of me.




It felt like everything around me was a little happier in anticipation of my poem. I smiled to myself utterly amused by the narcissism. And then in what sounded like a whisper, I said..


Galaxies and whiskey bottles to drink
good things may be slow but baby these things happen in a blink
Come along I have some secrets to share
run away with me, run away with me and I'll see you there


I'll hold you close listening to everything you've got to say
we could fight sometimes, sometimes we could play
Finish each other's lines, steal glances here and there
I will get you all the stars and oceans, just stay right here


Sitting here for an eternity trying to put all my prayers in one
I looked for your hand when it was all said and done
Mulled over it plenty and I played your game 
 But when I looked up at the sky to ask for everything, 
I only called out your name




And there was a hushing wind. Then everything went quiet. 

_____________________



Until next time
Love, always
S








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