The Mountain Wood

Philosophical Vignettes

A sage and pupil made their way 
Into a deep and darkened wood. 
They searched and wandered places 
Where, for years, no traveler would.
 
The underbrush, the damp-cool swamps
And thorny vines delayed their climb; 
And countless unknown fruits hung from 
The alpine trees of mountain climes.
 
“One must be cautious when he treads
The mountain wood,” the master said, 
“This place is seldom journeyed through— 
It fills the city folk with dread.”
 
Time after time the frightened boy
Had asked him, “Master, are we there?”
“The climb is bitter but the fruits
Are sweet,” was all the sage declared.
 
The trek went on for many days, 
Without a destination reached.
The student’s eyes filled with despair—
The forest had been barely breached.
 
But after many haunted moons,
And after many darkened trails
The student’s eyes filled with sheer dread, 
Like those of men whose courage fails.
 
Though unfazed by the boy’s laments, 
The master stopped and calmly stood 
Amid the forest mists and said,
“There is no shortcut through this …