unknown below these trees

unknown below these trees poem by steven james humphreys

when I was young

I didn’t mind loneliness

I sought it out

but now I wonder

if those years were

wasted years?

only I would know

the answer to that,

but it’s not too clear

only that its purpose may have

been for my own growth.

and then I go to the forest in my own mind

and rest with the other lonely spirits

and unwind in an eternal breeze

blowing through my body whisking me clean

this is my church and I sit in the shade

of a mighty tree made

by God’s own hands

growing through the ages

I may see a lone deer running

but I without one wouldn’t throw my spear

he was free to go as he pleased

until I looked up at a moonlit night

down on bended knees

and I know the great wind is coming

blowing over the lake

that suicide is not my option

cutting their own life short

but for someone’s own sake

yet do not be startled

within this wilderness

when you hear sound of a woman’s cry

for this wood is not haunted

only by these

who I call the scattered graves

of the unknown below

who abide by me.







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