Along this path, over winter, limbs,
Branches and whole trees fell.
It looks as though this has been
Happening for years, some logs
Brittle as you recall wood gets
When left alone to rot.
Rot it does not though,
I have learned in winter.
If I were strong enough, (I may be),
If I were still in need to disrupt
Life, I’d turn over one that fell
Only to discover bugs and worms
And worlds that might have been
A dream for the boy I was.
Now, I allow them to be a dream
For the man I have become.
It was not the rot I sought
But these worlds to start
Underneath felled branches,
Limbs and whole trees.
Along this path, this life
I do not need to disturb
Only know of for the boy I was
To have proof of his existence.