Limbs Like Vines

Every day I walk through fairy tales

Paths you can’t see all the way down

Tree limbs stretched out like vines

Listening for my intent.

Nature doesn’t move until you make it

And then it just complies

Knowing it will outlast you and your temporary ideas

Your monuments to nothing and your glaring insecurities.

There are no monsters in these woods,

Just monsters of your own making

Shadows slick enough to hide when you notice them

But looming large enough to keep you in your bed.

Every day I walk through fairy tales

Paths you won’t even look down

My limbs stretched out like vines

Remembering my intent.