Sunday, January 1, 2012

RUNNING AWAY TO MY FEAR












I am the sapling - grew under the shade of an oak-
Yearning for the boundless warmth of the sun.
I am the seed of the oak, afraid to be his father's son.
Years have rolled on years and still I cannot unyoke.

I feared the man - in the foolishness of my wisdom-
Lost in my fear, I ran. Alas, no destination I chose.
Now I know. The spiky cactus cannot sire a rose:
I ran but in vain - My spikes bear yet the venom.

See me now - back at the den from which I fled:
In vain, doth the cripple swim against the raging tide.
After a fruitless roam, I return - shorn of my pride-
Seeking my way in the crooks of the path he led.

This man I never wanted to be- the fountain of my tears:
Him, I come to - seeking the path out of the valley fears.

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