The door opened and I was in a dark wood. Green sunlight rained through the
leaves. The dark was not dark, but green. A dark green nothing could
penetrate. The sadness of the forest overwhelmed me and i was drawn,
pulled by this same force, to go forward. I walked slowly forward, all
was quiet, no birds sang, no wind rustled the leaves. Nothing disturbed
the dark sadness of the green wood. Except some music, the music came
from ahead. But it did not welcome me joyously, it was sad, sweet,
beautiful music. It came from the path ahead, and entwined itself
around me. It incircled me, filled me, until I was lost in it. Deep in
the music of the sad, green wood, I went on slowly. While I walked
through this wood, with its music and its trees, I began to be changed.
The wood was changing me, my hair fell out of its ties to be rippled
gently by the cool breeze that was not wind, but only the music of
the green wood. My clothes, my jeans, shoes and t-shirt, went away; not
dissolved, melted, or dissappeared, they were simply taken away by the
green wood and replaced by a long, light, and beautiful dress as green
as the moss underfoot. I walked on, pulled by the sadness still. The
wood opened into a clearing. Not a clearing, exactly, for the trees
let no hint of sky, except the green sunlight, be seen. A figure
clothed the same as I, played the enchanting music passionately on a
violin on the opposite side of the clearing. With incredible emotion
she created the sad music, which in turn created the dark green wood.
I was so moved by the music, I began a dance. My dance was as emotional
and heartwrenching as her music. As I danced, I moved toward the
musician. Twirling, bending, jumping, I reached her. When I was close
enough, I saw who it was. She stopped playing and I stopped dancing,
but the music went on. She looked up at me with eyes a green
as sad as her music.
pIt was me.