Haspun Woods loomed in beautiful gloom,
Few things are both tomb and womb.
Blue felt the order,
“BODY STAYS AT THE BORDER,”
And stepped out of himself no shorter.
Leaving bodies behind they each had to find
Their way by the think of their mind.
By drip-dropping of thought
They explored and they fought
Their way to being hard taught.
When swords wandered into lidded woods
Some things were understood:
Branches point but do not show the way,
Their roots give it away.
Dig deeper than the woods.