The Forest Reflects

The forest doesn't fix you.

It reflects,
if you let it.

Holds up the mirror
beneath the exhaustion.

I went back to the woods
full of grief.

Not the loud kind.
The buried kind.

The trees didn't ask me
to explain.

They stood there,
still and vast and whole.

I started standing taller
beside them.

Healing isn't always upward.

Sometimes it spirals.
Sometimes it sinks.

Rests in leaf litter
and lichen.

And quietly,
I realized.

Being alive
was enough.

The forest said nothing.

And in that silence,
I heard myself.

← Back to Backtrails & Fragments

* peer reflections: not medical or therapy advice. *