I feel the river never ends;
Long winding staircases
Of mossy rocks and exposed roots,
Craigs and juts and ferns so full,
Over and around it goes.
I feel the distance is all the same;
Each step a galaxy
Lost into mycelium
Softened by depth of lichen,
A tangle of Gaia’s webbing.
I feel the air is more dense now;
Little sweat drips
Against breath stirring easily,
Amidst dancing ents and forgotten witches
Softly reminding me.