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 pace.
Keep close.
Keep faith.
Savor this good bread,
considering without regret
the choices you have made.
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.
(This poem was included in Wild Once and Captured)
(This poem was included in Wild Once and Captured)
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