by Leslie Benigni
The woods bring me back to myself and to myself I shall go, not wider but deeper. Doing things for myself, such a formerly unknown thing, to help myself be myself, doing things for myself. The woods give me respite and recharge.
Off on a journey to the woods to nowhere, a blank canvas to allow myself to be. A playground to reparent myself.
I will say that I am here, and I care that I’m here, and I care, and that’s all.
I will walk deep into any forest and notice how the trees still stand with Mother Nature’s veins piercing the sky even though they are given no recognition. I will walk by any stream, dip my fingers so slightly beneath the meniscus of rushing liquid. The water will rush, though it is not praised alone in its forested environment, sun peeking from veins. I will watch the stars late at night, alone on a night road trying to get back home. They shine, a lighthouse like me, but its dead light pinpricks the sky without acknowledgment.
I layered on my hiking boots, wool socks, scarf, and hat, and my cheeks are rosy and the apple orchards are empty because it is November again. This time on my own.
The wheel turns and the change was put into place and now I am acclimating—I was sliced loose and was told it was Creation. I could still feel the knife. Oh, but how it cut off the abscess and how I could do freely whatever I desired.
I layered on my hiking boots and felt the orange sun smother my face and felt the cool air sway between my crunching leafed feet. I questioned myself how far I should walk and then allowed myself to walk as far as I wanted.
To the end of that log in the ravine?
To the end of that log in the ravine.
Running without judgment, smiling like crazy, so rosy and happy. I climbed up a mossy log through jaggerbushes and brambles just because I could and I looked down at the ravine from the top. My breath was paced and heavy, but I was alive with each heartbeat and I became who I needed to be.
A Thorn Is Never Vicious
by Jack Dunnett
Leslie Benigni is a recent MFA graduate from Bowling Green State University in Ohio. She originally heralds from Pittsburgh and has consistently explored the themes and motifs of familial dynamics, the natural world, art, and individual reclamation. Her work has been published in Coffin Bell Journal, ANMLY, Tint Journal, and Quibble Journal. Find her on Instagram @benignileslie and Twitter @Ibeni894.
Jack Dunnett is a mixed media painter who grew up in the Highlands of Scotland. He obtained his Bachelor of Arts in Painting from Gray’s School of Art in 2017. He currently lives and works in Glasgow.
Ignatian Literary Magazine 