Ricochet spirit

 Curiosity touches my brow I must walk into the forest
I must look for my divine metaphor a sense of self outside of me

Past the treelined forest edge, beneath the covered canopy
One thousand twenty doors set in massive, twisted ficus trunks

Each door marked with a blazing sigil illuminating the inner forest
Roots sprawl above ground forming a labrynth under the canopy

A trifle of brown decaying matter crunched beneath my weary boots
I wandered lost with footing fatigue

By touching the roots I reinvigorate my heart and blood veins
Rising up through the branches breaching the canopy

Sunburst luster rays soak through, recharge me
Electric lightning feel shoots through my insides

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