forest paths


The years are forest paths
Where I’ve lost my way.
Not even a sun-ray
To guide my wandering,
Get me back to the clearing.
So I must keep on this way,
So narrow, steep and winding,
Groping, falling, climbing,
Between the tall trees,
The shrubs which scratch my face.
Accepting that the only way
Out of the dark forest, might be
To delve deeper, yet deeper
Into the forest’s very heart
The keeper, perhaps,
Of my heart’s lost secrets.

-Anna Mathai-


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