[John Riley]

Should point out this is from a manuscript of connected prose poems.

Separate

Each way he turns, he is invited into the forest. Wide tree trunks offer him dreams, and the small trees entice him to wrap his arms tightly around their small trunks and become new bark. He continues on the path, certain the next step will be his final step into the dark, but even as the dark parts for him, he realizes he will never become part of the trees or the wrap-around vines, or the birds with their calls drawing him deeper into the forest. He knows that eventually he will be birthed by the forest and will be who he is and nothing more. He can see the forest and he can touch it and smell the deep green, but he cannot remove his feet and hands and eyes and become an ageless tree. His feet almost stop stepping as he accepts the truth, but they then decide to move on, and he begins to feel the freedom of not wanting to be something else.