Around again

This husky old round

These wandering days

This breeze whispered

Through the trees.

These ill-gotten thoughts

Rattling through my pain

With their doubt,

Their despair, their anew.

When they all come

They come all, they

Hold fast with a

Slow slipping grasp.

Or do I hold them,

Hold them tight

For their ease

Their ache well known

And nurture familiar.

As the breeze and

The birds and the cool

On my face,

I don't know

And so wonder

Alone.

Would it release

Let me free

To live

And I too

Let go

Of the safety

To set sail.

Set sail for a

Shore that lies

Far beyond the 

Back gate

Beyond the landing

Past the great

Rocky island there.

Far beyond,

Beyond this,

This little

Red house

Where I dwell

And I ponder and

Wonder for

You.