Backpacker Mother

In the tangled jungle of my mind creepies and crawlies bite and suck. They feast on your blood and fill you with venom. Howls of the night keep you from rest, and contorted vines grab at your feet. Oh, and the poisons that turn your mind within and make you fear your past. And your future. Those poisons in the smoke, the innocent leaf, and the full round berries, Juicy and ripe, that would lull you to a soundless sleep. In the cave-dark recesses I see nothing but danger. Whilst you, bathing in the dappled sun, taut with adrenalin, lean and young and brilliant, agile and streetwise, your light shields your eyes seeing only the soft green shoots and fearful creatures. Seduced by that beguiling woodland. Aware of only good You go where I would fear to travel. Take care.