A Path Through the Trees
(Original sketchbook catalogued in the Brooklyn Art Library with a call number of 149L.1-7.)
It came from nowhere, a trickle at first
And I watched as it thread its way through the shifting grasses
Towards barren forests.
Feeding life into silence,
Thoughts into minds
And warmth into veins
And I followed.
Through the past, buried deep beneath the trees,
Through white forests in darkness
Burned black on my retina,
Down rivers of fear
Springing delicate dreams
To the path through the woods
And I followed.
Then it coiled in my hand
And I weaved it a name
From the dreams I once had
and the life I once dreamed
Thinking now I shall lead,
I shall make my own path
And now it will follow...
But it lay lifeless and limp until it was freed
And I watched as it thread its path through the shifting grasses,
Towards shining forests
Of love and of laughter
Dancing bright in the moonlight
Seeking unknown horizons.
And I followed..
Can you see where I've been my dream bound love?
Feel life pulsing through me, reckless and free?
Hear the trees calling the night sky above?
Roots bound to the earth as you are to me .
Two lives stitched together our paths entwined,
Wet from the rivers of hope and despair.
Thorns tear the ribbons of love as they bind
Us, our paths sewn into the mindight air.
Don't ask where the thread leads to my lover
Its truth unravelling into the dawn.
Hear the trees whisper lies to each other,
Illusions so real and perfectly drawn...
I must wake once more from these shining trees
And you my sweet friend who the morning frees.