You Needn't Search Alone; Homesick Wanderlust by Lawrence Moore




You Needn't Search Alone


Long after darkness first strolled out to play,

we cut the torches, possibly to sleep,

convinced all other lights were slunk away,

not counting on the hours forests keep.


Upon this tent, most subtleties and hints

have made these skittish fools recoil and hide,

but when it came to dreamy purple glints,

we couldn't fight the urge to steal outside.


We saw them as they rushed between the trees

to watch us back while softly treading air.

Small children graced with wings they might have been

without the signs of struggle in their stares.


They cradled words long shaped for us to hear,

then slowly let them out in dulcet tones,

with nothing landing plain to human ears

except the phrase 'You needn't search alone.'


We slithered onwards, strove to comprehend,

incredulous and dumb, but keen to learn.

Their lights went out, still yet to glint again

upon this tent, though often we return.


Homesick Wanderlust


As I stumble through the clearing,

your veil lifts from my eyes,

but your whispering still preys upon my ears.


Let the sky speak for reason,

spin the case for the defence,

have the gallery of ashes hold their tongues.


This mess of contradictions

drunk on homesick wanderlust

stretches on, though elasticity grows thin.


Could my heart split asunder,

yet be found in the grass

to the pleasure of a solitary beast?

May one animal be satisfied at least?