spirit of the forest

dumdumdumdum restless tappingtappingtappingtapping

waiting in the beige neutral sickly pastel doctor's room

the wall is synthetic and the room smells funny

i DONT want to be here...

i look around, Southern Living magazines lie forgotten, dog-eared and soiled
the hardwork that created the magazine is trash, no one cares, throw it on the floor.

the clock is the most boring object i have ever seen
a plain face, the numbers in traditional font
ticking ticking ticking but not as briskly as i would prefer.

the slick cloudy green and purple countertop looks childish
even though it's grotesquely hideous.

there isn't much else in the ugly room, save for one object.

the Spirit of the Forest


hanging opposite me in a conventional wooden frame.
at first glance, it is just as unattractive as every other solid atom in the room
and yet...
as i studied it, in the silent solitude i found myself
it began to reveal itself more to me.
the different, almost patches on the canvas became more intricate
more artful and creative
and i found myself drawn to the painting

a leaf, a brook, a forest, a swirl of wind
they do not make the spirit of the forest.

but its mystery, darkness, and hidden value
do.

-Pamplemousse