When I was a very young girl,
I went wandering in the wood.
I had always tried to be smart,
I had always tried to be good.
But the path was splitting in three,
And the sky had quickly turned black.
Hair rose on the nape of my neck,
But I knew I could not turn back.
A coyote started to howl,
And in fright, I ran from the sound.
My foot got caught on a tree-root;
I tumbled roughly to the ground.
The rocks cut my knees and my hands,
And oh, everything ached inside.
I curled myself up in the dirt;
I rocked back and forth as I cried.
Then I heard someone say my name,
Somewhere in the depths of the black.
The voice belonged to my father,
And he called for me to come back.
He said my wounds would never heal
If I let myself waste away.
This did not have to be the end;
I could keep the shadows at bay.
At first, I did not believe him;
I thought he was wrong about me.
But I proved even myself wrong–
I was stronger than I could see.
I pulled myself up from the dirt,
And found my way out of the wood.
He couldn’t save me from the dark:
I was the only one who could.