Unoriginal

Unoriginal
Standing in a darkened wood, I hear the hounds trying to search.

I know the search will be long and arduous and important, but I want to take a moment of rest.

I sit on a flat rock and sing for the oaken audience.

The strums and chorus complete, I hear the hounds louder than before.

I stand to join, but realize they no longer search. They chase ever closer.

Running in a darkened wood, I hear the barking and snarling.

Darkness normally a comfort or blanket, now but an open world that I keeps me lost.

A cave appears before me and I take my chance to hide.

Further and further back I run, the barking faint until gone.

I trip over a lump in the darkness and fall, scratching my face.

I sit up and my eyes adjust to the comfort of the blackened cave walls.

I look around me and see the lumps of floor show their true form.

A silver morning dove, largely antlered deer, snowy soft rabbit, and chestnut babe squirrel.

Each laid down and dead among the rocks.

I back away from the sight, but my back bumps against a wall.

Upon the wall as if in altar, a small pitch black raven spread out, tears still showing in reflective eyes.

New tears well in my own as I shut the Raven's eyes.

A grunt behind me shakes me back upward.

A large brown bear holding flowers in it's mouth.

I think that it bring funeral flowers, but as it walks closer the flowers fall into my own lap instead.

The bear lays in its own space amongst the others.

I join it in rest, laying my head into it's soft, but strong shoulder.

All of us look up to the one who is different.

One of the original.