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.
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