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hermit | Poem

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
HERMIT

mad as a hat
in hermit's woods
lilacs must be blooming
skipping here and there
no grass blade breaking
whistling a Mozart tune
one startled deer
dashing past

he know the rocks
they speak to him
he knows pinon
they feed him
mountain streams
stop mid-rushing
to refresh him
in his passing

he heart's the Earth
it heart's him back
he howls the moon
to reflect the sun
he lines the stars
up for the night
then swoons to sleep
in their sparkling light

when morning dawns
he's off again
adventurous soul
his life a song
in love with all
till he comes to town
& finds the streets
frowning, all frowning

pointing & crying
"Oh my! oh my!"
see the foolish old man
in foolish old cloths"
hear not his words
know not his world
see not God's gift
to their dying souls

he shoulders his pack
of rice & beans
turns from the city
never to be seen
again...well...
maybe

- Sam Hill

 
 

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