Forest of Opportunities

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When you don't know where to go, sometimes life gives you advice in strange and unusual places.

 

The wind wanders through the trees

like waves crashing upon the shore

of my heart.

 

Mingled amongst the

whispering branches,

I hear the songs of

better times

clinging to the chirp

of winged heralds

who do not see me,

nor know for whom their

tweeting

melodious

messages are meant.

 

“This path leads to

a sense of belonging,”

come the chirps of

a cluster of sparrows,

gliding in formation

high above the topmost branches,

an arrow pointing the way

to friendship, family,

a sense of familiarity.

 

But belonging doesn’t pay the bills,

friends can be fickle,

and family will love you

anywhere.

 

“This path leads to

jovial explorations,”

whistles the finch

in a flit of yellow

as he flutters by,

bouncing and flouncing through the air

bringing promises of fun

down an overgrown path

where he

whirls and twirls

through the brambles.

 

Fun though it may be

for some,

there is no stability,

no settling down,

no firm future down that route.

 

“This path leads to

glorious treasures aplenty,”

chatters the magpie

perched firmly in her

nest made up of shiny things:

bottle caps and tin gum wrappers

discarded by the many

travelers who

traversed the path beyond her

shimmery solitude.

 

But many have chosen that path

only to end up alone

and fearful

of losing what they

strove so hard to obtain.

 

“Choose the creative path,”

pecks the woodpecker,

hammering away,

carving a masterpiece

as he hunts for his

 supper.

 

“Go back to the beginning,”

whistles the robin

bobbing along its merry way,

just as content to go

backwards

as forwards.

 

“Follow the passionate path,”

cries the pheasant

wooing both me and

his mate.

 

A cacophony of

chirps and whistles

and tweets and caws

and clucks and hoots

and shrieks and warbles and trills,

all with suggestions of which path to take

and all suddenly awed into silence

by the screech of a falcon,

predatory

and yet majestic:

 

“Make your own path.”

 

And thus the music of my heart

flows back unto

the waves of the wind among the trees,

and I follow where it calls to me.

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