*hope* Poem by David Taylor

I feel shut off, locked in, separated
(dark alone perilous) .
The woods call with soft green tones,
the sky yearns above,
blue-grey,
as the clouds and world rush by.

How long will I sit by the wayside
not knowing if I want to be noticed
or prefer an idle invisibility:
Having human form some basic truths
cannot be denied;
body must be fed or die,
demons must be slain.

(Where lies freedom, where lie I) ?

Oh for the night to come
and moonbeams reflect on quieter waters
hushed by the setting golden sun,
and a million stars shine down
from a silvered distant past,
of times long gone.

And in the chill and wind
(which now slowly seeps within)
how I will wish for the warming sun
to arise on future horizons,
my feigned escape undone.

Behold, in front, a tiny pearl of dew
(does form, and glint) ,
on the shadowed hawthorn leaves,
hope speaks.