Dark was the night long lost in the wood.
Ephemeral and translucent it seemed,
however the dark clouded away the stars
distance and direction lost in the pitch.
Discretion not lost on his valor.
Limbs of the trees seemed to reach out
to entrap him.  The stones pricked at his feet.
Everywhere stones, lichens and moss grown
awaiting the step of a foot to send him soaring
into the abyss of darkness.  Panic and fear gripped
him as life was on the ebb.  Each step taken
with caution and torment as the wind howled
through his soul to chill his very bones.
Stumbling and falling on the stones, blood oozing
from his body.  Open wounds bleed and fester in
the darkness as a battle rages to conquer his spirit.
Tentacles of roots and briers tear at his skin ripping
flesh and entangling his thoughts.  Mired in the
blackness of the darkest night he is lost as he falls for
the last time.  Laying on the floor of the wood his blood
soaks the ground and danger crawls to feast and
gloat in victory.  Shaking from the cold bestial wind
he starts to crawl on hands and knees blood freely
trailing behind him. The wind howls with greater
ferocity as the stones try to keep him still. He feels
his way securely through the stones as the long
tentacles of the trees can no longer reach out to him.
His way is lit by only his mind and his resolve to make it
to the other side of the wood.  The stones and wood
seem to crowd him and hold him still. Yet still he moves
toward his own soul.  Deep within his spirit light is breaking
tears of darkness and his mind crawls to match his pace.
He crawls on it seems forever. He is longer bothered by
the blood, briers, or boulders. He rises on two feet
standing in awe at where he came from and in joy to where
he is going. He had found the path he was searching for.
He learned to crawl and survive in the muck of the wood
before he could walk in the beauty and wisdom of the forest.
Dark was the night no more.  
rb.