The Forgotten Pathways

She didn't know where she was going,
shades of fire, skin like linen,
after the body separated from the soul,
exhaled everything it had been carrying,
holding as if barrel
heavy enough to require
to be rolled down an uphill street,
some days the street is no longer visible,
some days it was only woods and woods
and fern leaves
and holly spikes
and crystal clear water,
and wholesome respite -
as if she never had to take that,
be that, push that barrel,
as if she was more element
than 'man.
Tomorrow,
tomorrow she may know better
how to unburden the vessel,
how to find again a path
worthy of her walking
but for now, for now
the heart is longing
to drain the red
back into green,
to venture into the canopy,
to see what humanity has forgotten
needs to be seen.