Certain of only our love.
Yet neither of us feeling it fully.
Too much doubt and pain.
The forest of our love killing us.
Slowly blocking out the light.
Dreams dying among the leaf litter.
Each turn seeming familiar until suddenly were lost.
Love’s woodlands criss crossed with fallen trees and blocked paths.
Running blindly, the branches sting.
Legs are weary.
Was the right turn taken?
So much time and care put in.
Yet now the plan is abandoned.
We follow the winding brook, filled with tears for love missed.
Will we ever get out of this wood?
Can we at least find a glade.
Trees bend in the wind of indecision.
First one way then the other.
The outcome wavering in the face of love’s might.
The strongest storm is not always enough though.
Paths covered with the debris of our relationship.
They can be cleared again.
Or new paths beaten in their place.
Into the woods.
Not yet out again.
We will be though.