The Forest

I walked in the forest when I was young, 

I smelled the earth and the trees,

I felt the breeze on my face,

I tasted the water in the stream.

I thought it was beautiful and pure,

I saw it for what it was,

It showed me new things,

I learned from it.

I grew a bit older and stayed inside,

I stopped walking,

I stopped thinking,

I forgot.

One day I remembered the forest,

I went back to walk her paths,

But things had changed and were overgrown,

The forest had been forgotten for too long.

I wanted to return,

I wanted to remember what I couldn't recall,

I wanted it to be like it was,

I was sad.

And then the fire started,

Slowly and then it spread,

The forest was engulfed,

And the fire raged on.

When it was over the forest was quiet, 

The earth was singed and the trees still smoked,

I tasted the ash in my mouth,

I could feel the bile rise in my throat.

I left the forest and cried,

Everything was ruined,

Everything was gone,

Everything was changed.

Until I realized that the forest had been choking,

The underbrush was too thick,

Ripe for a fire,

Ready for a new start.

Because until the forest burns, it can't truly grow.

© Erica Day McCarthy, San Antonio, Texas - 8.22.18