Running to Stand Still . . . the Voice

I’ve run the straight trail in this forest through the gate,
And now I stand in the circular clearing peering upward
At one tall Tree towering in power as highly as I can see,
And I hear the Voice calling upon me to make my choice;
All around, the clearing is surrounded so thickly by trees
And in the opening round the one tall Tree fly honeybees;
Here I stand in this grand place, having stopped my race,
Pondering what is my choice, no more hearing the Voice;
Looking around I see only the gate and the path I’d tread,
Knowing with dread that I could not turn back
But for lack of knowledge could not go forward
Toward any goal of which I was aware; I could only stare;
And so I stand next to the grand tree ‘n not more do I see;
Oh, where from here to there, and where is there anyway?
Ah, the Voice … the Voice … the Voice whispers in the wind


Note: This poem is based upon a dream I had as a teenager. The dream just came back to mind this morning and so I decided to share it with my dear readers. Blessings to all!

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