The speaker wishes for protection in the wild, and the poem unfolds like a charm spoken to get it. It begins with a longing for the thick coat of a dog in cold wind, or for a bear's strength, so that a storm could feel pleasant rather than threatening. The woods, we're told, are the traditional place for trouble, yet here they are full of "extraordinary rooms," as if the trees made a strange kind of house.
Then the speaker lies down on the ground "as if dead," surrounded by light that hangs like curtains and by whispering enchantments. The image of fingers reaching as high as they can is hard to pin down, but it suggests plants, branches, or perhaps the speaker's own hands stretching upward.
The ending is quiet and a little defiant. Saying words until they turn strange, the speaker suggests, is the only thing that might keep us safe. The mood is hushed, vulnerable, and tender, mixing fear with wonder at the dark woods.