Walking through the forest with little light,
eyes on stalks
or sunk back into my head understanding that
nothing they could do would help.
Slips of white moon fall between clouds and cut down
in amorphous blooms that carve roots into portions of abstraction.
We begin in breathless anticipation
of a life's headlong rush into knowledge;
young mind open like a flower to receive all understanding.
At a later time the only thing that becomes clear
is that we will never know
and however long our petals hold back against inevitable closure,
we will always be at the beginning and not the end.
Each day I begin again with you and all previous knowledge
sheds a small light on the wilderness and wildness.
We look at one another and our eyes show us only
skin, cloth, a movement in the shadows.
But I am walking through you, however unclear my path
and I know that I will find the way.