On the verge

...stealing from the stylings of liana's soft light...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~






You stand at the edge of the forest,


on the verge of the wood, with axe in hand
(but we are done with grinding) wondering,

"How can i find my way to the other side of the wood?"



There is no other side.



There is only the wood.
There are only the trees.

~~~~

"What if I don't make it?"



There is no not making it.  



There is only the making 
and the made.

~~~~

"What if there are spirits?"



Of course there are spirits.



There are only spirits

~~~~

"How can I tell the right way from the wrong?"



Within the earth is the only darkness.
Above, there are only shades and shadows.

~~~~

"How will I know what I see?"



You will stand under the trees.  
They will know you.

~~~~

"What if I lose the way?"



There is no losing.  
There is only the way.

~~~~

"Can I really call myself 
'one who finds the way'?"



There is no finding.  
There is no way.
There is only the calling.



There are only trees
and trails yet to be made,

only woods and words and 
wooly moss upon the stones



and narrow spots 
between the trees 



where a person can 
just pass through.