First a sighting that feels…

Odd.

Something is coming.

Not rapidly,

But gradually,

Allowing time to prepare.

It builds up slowly,

Like eroding a mountain face

That blocks the fine waters

Of a crystalline river

That sprouts green

And refracts color of sunlight and flowers.

You graze there comfortably,

Staying within the bounds of the valley

And taking a nibble of the sweet berries

Every now and then.

Comfortable becomes redundant

And the dark pines beckon.

You dip in cautiously

and gingerly taste the fruits within.

The flavor bursts with sweet color;

How exciting it is in the forest.

A joy to behold,

Though the wolf lingers there, waiting.

Bright eyes behind bushes here

Where the nights are even darker.

This is fear, and it comes in a rhythm.

Soon you learn, and life is second nature,

But soon

You’ll want the valley back.