Walking in Circles

Looking out across the valley,

I thought of the stars that had fallen

And come to rest in the dried-up river bed

Winding its way through the long grass.

I thought of the ambitions

Nursed and raised by humans

That gave their spirits sustenance.

The wind whistled by.

Standing on the crest of a hillock,

I pondered on the dreams

That I had once had and cherished,

Like spools of golden thread

That would unwind before me and lead me

Out of the Minotaur’s maze.


Those dreams have burnt out and fallen, just like the stars.

And I have only my own two feet to lead me out of my past.

But from this desolate state, ambitions stir and awake,

And I am glad to be standing, relieved of my dreams, back at the start.




This entry was published on December 28, 2012 at 9:32 PM. It’s filed under Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

write the fox

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