Saturday, July 16, 2016


You trudge dirt roads   a pilgrim of your heart’s desire
till your blistered feet tire
At the House of Wisdom you crawl to bed
where woods lie lovely   dark & deep
& soon you’re asleep

When you wake in the night   a full moon   large & low
shines in at your window
& a woman   standing there   lifts her hand
to keep the silence unbroken
for you’d have spoken

Out to the grassy lawn   she leads you by moonlight
to forests of the night
She instructs you to leap the deep crevice
You fly high over pines   non-stop
to the mountain top

Her name is Contemplation   grey Wisdom’s daughter
Out across the water
she shows you the island of your desire
You consider it by moonlight
as from a great height

~D. S. Martin

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