Lost in the Woods
The wind blows cold through my ragged clothes as I stand there beneath the leafless trees; the bright sun blazing through the branches providing me little warmth.
Though the sky overhead is crystal clear, I can see in the distance wisps of clouds moving rapidly in search of something unseen. Clouds desperately trying to find one another, hoping to merge into a billowy shape strong enough to stand up to that wind; trying to contain any moisture that the sky can provide, so that they can darken and fight back with rain or snow.
Somewhere there are chimneys spewing forth dark smoke from crackling fireplaces blanketing the air with their acrid scent, wishing to fulfill their need to escape the confines of their brick enclosures and be heard. The odor is quite real, but its origins nowhere to be seen.
The wind strives on. The cacophony of its force, denying all those that stand in its way from working together, leaving nothing to stop its movement and power.
Yet there I stand, an immovable statue, cold, deafened by the sound of the forceful wind, and ever hopeful that I will be found or at least find a place of refuge to shelter me from the ever present conditions that have been thrust upon me.
I glance skyward and silently plead to whatever god can hear me, “Keep me safe. Let me be who I was meant to be.”
Then tree after tree, begin to fall. Each one closer to where I stand until I am surrounded by a wall of debris. A wall not so high that I can’t climb over it should I want to, but close enough to me that I am protected from the elements … at least for now.
“Thanks,” is my reply.
