Hope

Back many a night
Left I was, when at fate's foot,
In his arms alone
A warmth I felt so akin,
Softened at once my sore din.

In my meanders
All along since, he recurred
Like mellow melons
Bore to desert by Unseen,
As if close was Lake Pristine.

On paths I once loped,
As I lean on cane so meek
And trudge unto ken
I see him once more burgeon
And wonder: Who did summon?

What birthed him in me -
The celestial decrees or
Mere mortal instincts?
Thanks to whatever it be,
Sheen in darkest I could see.

Sep 17, 2012