In the middle of the forest

a deepening darkening space

'twix the trees

in the moss and the peat

the green revels

It stares back.

There are no streams here.

Dare to run.

When the wind howls

when the old gods

whisper in your ears

will you sing along?

There is a space

in the middle of the woods

where the old gods dance

take their hands

but never loosen your tongue

when the war-cry of the world
whips past you
will you repent?
give yourself to the earth?

they will take your word
your voice with which to cry
out the verity of your innocence
nothing good waits o'er yonder, child

will the scream of the fox
be enough to ward you from this place?
will the silence of the trees
tell you?
will the sweat beading on your brow
your muscles aching as you ready your sprint
be enough?