Here is someone who has ended up somewhere without understanding how. The speaker describes a kind of drifting: the reasons behind our choices stay hidden, and we don't even try to look for them. Instead, "blind instinct" takes over and carries us along, slipping "through space & time" until we've lost track of the path entirely.
The poem's shape matches its meaning. The lines are short and sparse, with lots of white space, so the reader moves slowly, almost feeling their way. Words like "hide," "blind," and "elides" suggest things slipping out of sight. The final image, a "dark forest," is a familiar picture of being lost, whether in life, in a decision, or in your own head.
The mood is uneasy and quietly bewildered. There's little panic, though. The speaker sounds more stunned than frightened, as if realizing only now how far they've wandered.