High in the mountains among the clouds lies a forest, of dark and deep lovely woods. Pines whose limbs stretch into the sky, harboring animals that creep and fly. On the paths where they trod, there are bushes of every kind and kindred…wild flowers that breath in the cold night air, wild golden poppies that grow at the base of the giant oaks, poison berries that tempt you with their rosy plumpness…but among them all is the one I love the best…the wild sage bushes that haunt you with their musky smell.
That is where I find my peace, among gentle nature in the cool night breeze. The owl shrieks and calls to his mate, and together they hunt in the night. His cries to her do not frighten me, but rather provide a gentle release for I find in his cries the echo of what I feel inside.
When the world of man has worn me thin, I take to my woods and find comfort in its hidden charms. In the dark and whispering leaves I hear the stories of my people. In the branches that creak and groan, I listen to the world age and know that I am not long for this world. I want it to be this way, just me walking in my woods. I have no need of those who claim to love me, when they do not. I never sought the embrace of those who would call my name if they even knew it. I never knew how to speak to them, what to say to bring them peace, how to lay their souls at rest when they sought my presence.
When I am strong I run along the trails I find and they lead me to my secret place. I am so high the air is thin, and makes my head light. I stop to catch my breath on the rocky ledge that one day may lead to my doom…but I am not frightened of this place. Rather I look upon it with hope in my heart.
You may find that you are frightened of the words I speak. But you should not be. I have lived the life I have chosen…and though I find myself at its end, I am not afraid to take that next step. I have always known I should not grow old. It is not in me to live so long. I never saw its need. There may have been too many tears…but I have lived enough years to know when to call it quits. I do not like to be thought of as weak for thinking these thoughts. I think it is rather to the benefit of others that I do not become a burden that they must take upon themselves.
There is a thought deep in my heart, that makes me shudder I do not wish to be the last among my kind to go. They must not leave me here alone. I could not bear it…and so I run my paths and stop at the edge of tomorrow, and gazing out, see the world God created as it should have been. There is Beauty in every flower, tree and stone. I seek to become part of life again. It will not happen now or in this time. I rush the clock and hear its ticking echoing in my heart.
My forest a dark place of silent brooding, a misting of yesterday that blended into today so perfectly I can see no line of division. I listen for voices but hear nothing save my own labored breathing. I look out among the edge and see the valley below. The clouds casting shadows on the mountain side like a finger pointing which way to go.
The leaves of my trees whispering the secrets they share with no one but me. I hear silent weeping and am surprised to find it raining. The gentle spray hitting my face and falling from my eyes like tears, and still I do not fear. This is how it ends then, just as it begun. With me waking to the sound of the birds singing…to the wolves howling…to the owl calling, gentle calling me home.