My Own Dark Woods

My own dark woods:

lost in my own dark woods, Dante’s journey of the soul found real and certain of a struggle, lost, and this place too is full of sin, every mark I’ve ever missed and now second guess my choices. Dark woods indeed, I wander.

yet, I’m not ill equipped for this journey — I’ve traveled these woods before and now find that perhaps I’m my own best light for navigation, and that very often to be lost is simply the only place to really find out where I am, comfortable in both dark woods and the light upon the edge. It’s all true wilderness, mystery’s landscape of soul, mind, and to find myself lost here is no surprise.

to be found lost is a telling line, and with that my navigation turns more from journey to familiar wander, there’s no seeking for an exist from these woods, no demand for friendlier terrain. I am found lost, here, with each step providing a map of my existence. Yes, these dark woods are full of sin, yet all of my own making and of the true meaning to miss their mark, and that as Dante finds through his journey that every sin is misdirected love. To be found lost, truly found now, is to guide this love back to its source, not to the distant edge of light and safe haven, but here, this present wild land, and to see, finally see, that these sins of self are illusions all. To be found lost is to be at home in mystery, befriended by my own…