Odes to Lucid Dreaming · Track 23 · middle

The Forest Hummed My Song

I was supposed to be afraid of the dark forest but the trees were humming my favorite song. I joined in and the path lit up under my feet. I followed it until I reached a clearing where the moon was close enough to touch.

Lyrics

[Intro]
The dark was supposed to have a name. Fear, I think. A forest built of corridors, each one a perfect silver copy of the last.

[Verse 1]
I was walking toward the sound a shadow makes. The trees were indexing themselves, bark peeling into pages I couldn't read. I was supposed to be afraid, but the air started to vibrate. A low frequency hum from the needles of the pines, which were silver, and shaped like tuning forks. It wasn't just any sound. It was my favorite song, the one from the music box my grandmother said never existed.

[Chorus]
I opened my mouth to check, and the forest sang back with my own voice. I joined in, and the terror became a current. The ground under my feet lit up, a path not of light, but of resonance. A road made of the next note, and the one after that.

[Verse 2]
The path didn't lead, it unspooled. Following it was like remembering a conversation I hadn't had yet. I looked down at my hands to stabilize, to prove the world. There were five fingers, but the fifth one was made of glass and humming in a minor key. The reality check was the wrong question. This place didn't need to be real. It only needed to be sung.

[Chorus]
I opened my mouth again, louder this time, and the forest sang back with my own voice. I joined in, and the fear became a compass. The ground under my feet lit up, a path not of light, but of pure intention. A road made of the next note, and the one after that.

[Bridge]
The trees finally parted. A clearing, perfectly round. The humming stopped. The silence was deafening, a held chord. And there, low in the sky, was the moon, close enough to touch. It wasn't a rock in the sky. It was a single drop of silver mercury, silent and waiting. It was the source of the song.

[Outro]
I reached out my hand. My reflection stared back from the surface of the moon. I touched it. Cold, smooth metal. The feeling of a final, perfect note held forever. The path behind me was gone. There was only the clearing, and the song, which was now the moon.