I am no poet of the interior voyage,
But I am a journeyman,
Giving good effort
For wages or food.
I know the paths through caves and forests.
I know the edible fruit along the way.
I'll show you the shallow fords
Across the river of tears.
Follow me, picking the way
Through the woods on black days.
Heed this moonlight, exalting the heart
Even through this night of fear.
Caution now,
There may be need for stealth.
Keep close. Keep pace. Keep faith.
We'll arrive safely soon enough,
Resting on Thursday,
Moving on, refreshed, on Friday.
Along the way, we'll learn more trust
Celebrating dews and frosts and thunder.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment