I rush through the forest in my mind,
searching for the correct path to tread.
It seems all the red cedar trees
are up against me,
surrounding my path,
they growl and grow,
their presence is immense.
I hurtle from one trunk to the next
seeking out that which might be
tied to it or hung from a thick branch
but nothing I see fits the view I beg to see,
I hurtle from tree to tree.
I am frantic,
I have little time left
to search out what I require
and what requires my hands.
The feeling of helpless hopelessness
washes over me as I begin to
lose all sense of control,
I just want to save them and leave.
It is essential for me to rescue the past,
to carefully hold it close,
not allow others a glance,
but it is difficult to save something
from certain evils of the world,
its judgmental eyesight,
its mocking, lack of understanding
of a once hopeful girl.
Because that is who I am saving,
my younger self,
who made mistakes,
so many,
yet here I am,
in a world where I can feel proud
of what I am doing.
The life which I lead is
worth feeling pride for,
I have walked many miles,
and with a sudden sense of relief,
my eyes fall upon that little girl.
About twenty, is she,
am I, rather,
on the precipice, of where I will fall,
but now I reach and untie this
little naïve, gullible being
and save her from her imminent future,
the experiences she no longer
has to live and solve.
And rush do we through the cedar trees,
time is ticking for our survival,
for her to return to my world of safety
but something is dragging her behind,
the air of heavy history,
and I realise she must live it
in order for my current self to breathe.
It is with heavy sadness that I let my
tight grasp of her hand go
and her outstretched arm falls limply,
into the darkness she melds.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 