Other Paths There must be other paths More winding, tangled Into sweet nothingness, Insignificant Sleeping hidden, overgrown, Darker, deeper Rock bound paths Misted and rain drenched, Where with one misstep, You might stumble, You might slip, If you are lucky, Into a real life. (c) 2005 J.L. Stanley
"I have dreams of the forest which nearly bring me to tears. I can see them, the trees glistening in the morning light. Deep green with the scent of the earth, an air like no other. I feel no loneliness. A blanket of leaves, a crown of branches, fallen feathers. My fingers run along moss and bark. Bare feet against moist earth."