Forest beginnings

I'm still not sure what this poem is truly about.

I stood before an ancient wood,
trees climbing to the sky
branches out stretched like open arms.
Tear drop leaves fell to the ground,
And crumpled foot prints led to the center,
to the earthen beginnings,
where time is but a blink.
I looked to the center,
a hole in the earth.
A womb of rock and dirt where life climbed forth,
where mother earth, gave birth to green and blue.
The gate keepers of this hidden place stand guard,
watching and waiting
for the time when the son will seek,
the safety of the cave where he once slumbered.