TRU KNOW TIME.


THE HILLSIDE SMITH SECRET

Sleeplessly resting in a fragile hint,
so alike a water circle offers shallowness;
sighted shortly and withheld; so moving


Tracing then the water in the forest-creek down to the river.

Waiting here. Observing with a careful watchfulness.

Counting everything musingly and cultivating my freedom.


Honour is never anything other than right; wise and truthful,
unthinkable to therein search after any hidden motives.


Sleeping safely next to the hillside smith at summer-dawn.

Relief comes when Life again will be enough.

Letting fastidious be me reasonable and healthy.


Opportunities, the now’s possibilities avoided me steadily
and persistently bitterness bites memories sown,
cock-sure and clearly; in benefit for worthlessness.

But, I have a prevalent advantage in clearest excess;

I am foresighted on the Holy Path Home to Valhalla.




Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 189 times
Written on 2023-11-04 at 10:40

Tags Valhalla  Honour  Home 

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Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem feels a lot tighter than most of yours I've read. I like it.
2023-11-06