We’ve reached the parting of the trees,
Sweet mists now wide and thin:
The heart of me is free to ease
The passing of our day.
Through twists of branches you could seize
My soul and keep me in:
But love, dear love, now far from these
Dark woods, you cannot win.
Safe held in lush obscurity
We could not find our way;
Kept winding, kind, lost surety
From where we did begin.
In your fierce woods you lured to me
Rich shadows of delay:
But love, dear love, from forests free
I know I cannot stay.
We have all probably found ourselves at a place where we look back on the last few weeks, months or years and finally just admit that we made a mistake. We reach a clearing, in a metaphorical sense leaving the woods behind, but also figuratively in the sense of “clearing out” what came before. It can be painful to end a relationship in this way, of course it can: but it is better, perhaps, than being lost in the dark but beautiful woods, lost forever. Or maybe it isn’t. I don’t actually know.
This piece is inspired greatly by Keats, Shelley and a fistful of Romantics. As ever, though written as an original piece (hastily about one hour ago on the bus), I confess to, and delight in, the palimpsest.