Sense of Presence

A cloud became
the dark of night itself
as it drifted, blotting out the gold
and silver gleam of moon and stars

She stood alone against the night
within a forest that was not quite live
yet uttered all its being
through the chill of nighttime air

There she met fear -
a dread so overwhelming
it stopped her in her tracks
and a primal scream began to build
that captured all her being in its spell
until she screamed herself into
the night that seemed to have no end,
there within the forest on the hills

She knew not where she was
nor where the pitch black path might lead
and stumbled on a deadened tree
that comforted her soul
as the chill of night began to reach
within her to the core of all she was

She slowly gathered back the tiny pieces
of that scream that filled
the forest full of fear
and it seemed as if a faery
or some fae or elven creature
entered too, within her gathering

For the scream no longer stung her lungs
or needed to be freed from its imprisonment
while the tree that she had leaned upon
no longer seeming dead, offered her a branch
one branch, no more, to see her through

She felt as if a wizard's staff were hers
to have and hold and wield
for it shielded her from deepest dark
as her feet began to move again
first one and then the other
guided by a hand and staff
that seemed not hers at all

and something other than her eyes
began to guide her down the mountainside
for the night, the trees, the earth itself
had found in her a friend
as a sense of presence, wandering
led her once again to her true home . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .