Conflicted
The loudest silence I have ever heard,
and dark, so black I hardly see the night.
No moon, and just a smattering of stars
whose ghostly glimmer casts a shimmered shade
among the trees, where night-birds sound their cry.
A rustle in the ferns belies the breeze
that barely moves the leaves, and signals prey
that prey themselves, and so the chain endures.
For I, who spurn the ordered realm of sleep
in unaccustomed outdoor habitat,
am curious what unseen world surrounds
me here, and where in it my place may be.
Should this be home, this strange and foreign land,
without those creature comforts far away,
or have we now evolved beyond this life,
where different rules and synergies prevail?
I stand, conflicted, lost in waking dreams
that only bring more questions, no release.
Don Matthews
Wed 18th Sep 2019 08:12
Very good Trevor....