Into the woods
Into the woods I go, in search of you, God and Gods of my spirit. Into the city I go, into the meeting, into the noises, machine made and human made, yelling and screaming and screeching and rumbling, into the lightning I go. Into my head, and my body, into my imagination, into another’s grief and mine, into another’s hopes and ours. Into myself and into another, and in between another and I, and among us all. Sitting still, allowing, being, becoming, not going. In the backwoods and the slums, in the glass and steel towers, in the closets and the public places, in the woods and ponds and skies: these are places, your places, but they do not satisfy. And then comes a touch, a whisper of air.
:- Doug.
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