Into the Clearing

we ran into the thicket,

an intertwined mess of leaves

and fallen hearts, enveloped in the

frantic beat of little drummer boys.

shaky hands kept steady beats.

we clung to the forest skin,

by teeth rimmed with silver linings and

by the tips of worn down fingernails,

we were suspended

in the hollow echo of promises.

that we would remember the way.

that we would know when to turn back.

we had plunged headfirst into the muck,

waiting with shoulders hunched,

for the buckle of roots and the ache of the trigger.

we were prey to ourselves, with a nakedness

we could not cover with hands that stretched

only as far as we reached for,

stripped of the brave faces we crafted in the night.

but by the fire we ignited with fear,

we grew to kindle with kindness.

and the smoke that arose lead us to dawn.

heart in hand, to the steady drum,

we walked out into the clearing.