What Lies Coursing Through These Woods?

Lane EmergesSuddenly out of tangled woods
A lane emerges, visible and clear,
Almost catching me off balance
With quiet exhilaration as I discover
What’s been here for years.

Wind blows through mist
As I sense new invitation.
Imagination wonders
What lies coursing through these woods?
Where might this lane lead?

Does it ever end?
Might there be a little house
Waiting around some unseen bend—
Or perhaps not a house but home
With fire to warm my hands and bones?

No matter how still I stand
To ponder where to go,
I pay the price that bending beauty knows,
Unbound as much as maples, walnuts, elm
Swaying high above while I stand here below.


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