
Soon the light will rise
and the pale morning mist will roll down,
through the pine trees and into the open
where it will be dispersed by the warmth of the sun,
thus night will end and so the day will dawn,
what was hidden will be revealed
and with it all that needs healing,
look in your books, look to your religions,
where will you see such words written down?
Perhaps in poetry alone can you read these things,
words which form bridges between worlds
and call out to the homeless wanderer.
DF. W-S 2005 XXXIX/XII









