The way this forest smells as we cross it

Today I feel like a husk of wood that has taken a battering
a can of rusty tin starting to resemble lace
a barely adequate container for my heart,
which hurts a bit still, as if it had been slashed and was just healing
as if I had neglected it and worried it more than I meant to

I'm sorry little heart Again and infinitely
You are the last thing I wanted to neglect but I did
So is life: It gets busy, it gets blind...
One gets lost for a scary minute

I'm sorry I slipped, but I'm glad I didn't break you
I'm grateful you're so strong and I'm listening again

This will not last forever little heart,
of this we are reminded
And part of the aching is having to learn that
Whatever time is lost has to be released
Whatever lessons were forgotten will have to be re-learned

By the grace of Olympus we will walk one more day
We will cross another mountain we never expected

Under the gaze of Artemis we will live or die

And I think we better try and savour the day's walk
and the way this forest smells as we cross it