The Grove

I wondered alone through the misty grove,

Hindered by roots and mossy stones.

Devoid of thought, I stumbled on,

Awaiting the break of approaching dawn.

“It must have been sorrow that brought me here”

I pondered, catching a lonely tear.

For it seemed a deep sadness had thickened the air,

Making it heavy and harder to bear.

The trees’ branches hung with invisible weight,

That only a hopeless heart could create.

As motionless figures, they stood in their ground,

Watching me pass with no comfort of sound.

But engulfed in this haze, it was easy to see,

Why my pain had yet to abandon me.

For it was not the ground, nor the trees, nor the air,

It was simply the effect of my presence there.

Then with morning’s first light came new clarity,

Of all that I am and desire to be.

So as the fog vanished, I embraced the sun

For my journey of hope had finally begun.