A Story In Verse, Part 1: A START OF A JOURNEY
I lived in the desert with no one but me,
No brimming oasis, not even a tree;
My home made of stone and my heart made of glass.
I dreamed of the forest that grew by the sea
With fountains of flowers and rivers of grass.
I woke with a start of a journey in mind,
An inkling of danger, a chill-riddled spine,
My belly in flutters of butterfly flights
Whenever I saw myself leaving behind
The dulcimer dunes and the harpsichord nights.
With only the vaguest of notions I went,
A spring in my step, on my lips a lament,
Amazed with each step as if some other soul
Were moving within me without my consent,
Convincing myself I was out for a stroll.
I walked with the sun, then I walked with the moon,
The sun came again, and I walked until noon.
At last the momentum of rapture subsided,
The flank of a boulder the dust storms had hewn
I gladly received as the shelter provided.
My pack for a pillow, my coat for a quilt,
I dreamed I was plunging my sword to the hilt,
A beast at my feet writhing awful and great—
The dragon of sorrow, the demon of guilt,
The two-headed fury of envy and hate.
I woke with a shiver as cold as the sky,
Took one look around me and didn't know why
I'd wandered so far from my home in the dunes,
Perhaps my good reason had kissed me goodbye,
Or was it the message I'd read in the runes?
D. Edgar Lamp