A woman went into the woods,
Though born in a city,
Raised in a home,
She can be found,
Only where she found herself.

Few go in with her,
Fewer after her,
Thinking she’s among bricks,
Hoping she’s in bed,
Longing for promises.

For her it is the woods,
For one it is the beach,
For another a mountain,
But never for all,
Few leave at all.

If you follow her steps,
You will lose the tracks,
As you will with any,
But make your own,
And you’ll cross paths.

Find sand in forests,
Leaves by the shore,
Valleys atop mountains,
Wherever is quiet,
You’ll meet your tribe.

She is not found,
But rather met,
By those searching,
Not for her,
But what they have.

Leave cities, homes, bricks,
For where you are,
Where you’re meant for,
Leave where you’re lost,
For where you’re found.



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