I Am Led

I am led, though the path has been shaken from the forest's back
The stumps of the thin trees have emerged--boars sniffing the wind
For the smoke. The forest is running. I am led by the trampled paths of
Boar and deer in the haze of dimness blooming like algae above us
Dropping the old signs from their backs and unspooling temporal rings--
Smoke rings take life from grass to stone, through bitter dust blowing
Through the conch shell passage of my sinuses until I am singing
A path for the forest as it rises, running, the opossums making handprints
In the dirty blue sky like notes in the staves from which we hang
Primate notes running with the forest down the snapping tension
Lines that I read like the letters broken from the branches rising
Before me, great antlers tearing from the skin of the world
Boars running madness through the ashen fields
Shaking the clay from their bristles for the hands of the opossums
For the notes that sound in my nostrils, for the new paths
Down which I am led.

This was inspired by The Sunday Muse Muse #12 and is being shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry #409. This week I'm hoping to do a few posts inspired by the sermon that I heard while visiting my parents--at their church, not from them :) --about remembrance and places that are special to you. Also, Camp NaNo begins this week, so a big cheer to all of my fellow Nanoers! Yea!!! Your will project will be awesome! :) Best wishes for a week of good adventures,
-- Chrissa