Wonder Where

There's a wonderland I've seen but can never reach the same way twice. There's a hell in which I've been consumed that has drawn me through the same doors over and over again.

This place where I now stand seems slightly familiar, but older.

Those rocks were bolder when first we met, less weathered and worn by wind and rain. Those trees are now stronger with thicker girths and cascading branches.

As the canopy overhead soaks in every ray and breeze, the floor beneath it fades. The pathways have been confused with the barren ground; the way out hidden.

This place is strangely familiar-- though I have yet to see this season, this time, this moment here. There is an eerie comfort here, one you know cannot be good, but one that calls and soothes you all the same.

I could fall asleep right here for moss and vine to grow. But life is in the waking days... therefore I must go.