The Wellspring

To and through the wellspring 

Of safety and glory 

I will find your hand outstretched.

Solemn.

But sound.

I’ve been gone for days now

Maybe months, they say.

I’ve waded through the murk and reeds 

To measure how far they’ve grown. 

It’s been years 

Months of mourn and misgiving. 

my eyes have watched for the moonbeans 

To cast down on a familiar bone.

What is it?

They have asked

From the other side of trees

Echoing in whispers 

Through a clandestine clarity 

Surely I’ve known

but long since unseen.

Despondent for decades 

Diminishing glances

Those that dared to meet

swept abruptly away

Leaving mine lush in abandon.

I do not fear god.

Nor do I fear you.

Awaiting and appraising my tread.

What I do fear is the lunar set

The thick and baneful cloak 

Poised and prepared 

To fall upon my path

The only route I have stoked.

And so I press on 

In waste and ruin

A remembrance of regard,

dragging behind self

Through grit and grimace

tearful traces of loss

Its far too late, 

No time could tell

That there is no way back,

only through.

and just as well

The spring holds a false promise,

it may lead me to you.