While hitch hiking in the New Forest I took a wrong turn

The trees stood closer together, darker, menacing

My heart pounding as the light changed

I could see a small clearing

There stood a glass temple built in the fashion

of a step pyramid about four feet high

On the lower step sat a very small monk

His head in his hands, I could hear him sobbing

Stepping closer to sit beside him I asked after his sadness

Turning to me with the most beautiful face

Small, round bright blue eyes with bow shaped lips

The kind I knew to be soft to the touch

His voice, a rustle of leaves, full of mystery

Someone has stolen the gold stone

Without it the forest will soon die.

Before finding myself in this strange place

I had bought a few trinkets to take home

I offered the monk my palm sized piece of pyrite

Asking if it would do, in place of the lost stone

He took it in his small hands, saying

It’s a good replacement given with kindness

The forest spirits will be very grateful

He placed it on top, bowed his head

I heard whispered words that meant nothing to me

Thinking he was deep in prayer, I made my way out

of the forest with no wrong turns

Not realising the scene behind me was slowly fading

Disappearing into a realm that had sent it in the first place.

Stopping for a coffee before returning to my car

I asked about the glass temple.

No one knew what I was talking about

On my way out, the elderly man who sat behind me

Stopped to say I had been blessed by the sands of time

That from now on, my life would take the right turns

I watched him walk away, wondering how he knew

About my wrong turn. He made no mention of the glass temple

The words whispered by the monk stayed in my mind

I would try to look them up later…

©anitadawes