The Woods are Dark and Deep ( a poem of reconciliation)
The woods are dark and deep there,
On a night lit by the full of the moon,
Shadows cast by the tallest of trees,
And in a fright, we are not immune.
Screams and shrieks, a loudest howl,
Raises the hairs upon our necks,
While only bravest in their own quest,
Seek answers, to all suspects.
Is a Big Foot, Yeti, Sasquatch or Baboon,
Perhaps just a monkey, or maybe, two,
So many observations, the sounds heard,
We may not even know what to do.
Is it a figment of the imagination,
Or maybe just wishful, or a weird event,
An explanation to the meaning of ghosts,
Of an evil. that's not heaven sent?
A three eyed snakelike serpent, seen,
Or is a hairy and smelly old beast,
A metallic man. without any hands,
To be a strange flying object, at least.
Skinny white creatures with big heads,
And eyes, dark, and so very wide,
Makes us forget the circumstance,
And the real truth, well does hide.
Endless progressions of patients' protest,
As many of their psychiatrists, too,
What is both seen and heard in the dark,
To exist, and is not anything, so new.
A witnessed event is quite relevant,
Depends upon the ones involved,
Some things are meant to understand,
While others, never are solved
The human mind, so complicated, complex,
Full of mystery and is so very deep,
Much as a forest, so full of tall trees,
And on guard, even as we all sleep.
The stars at night and their brother moon,
Attests to this dilemma, unsolved spell,
All are a part of the universal heart,
and what is not meant for us, ever to tell.
all rights reserved and under copyright 2014