Where walk the shades of the once-lived
wraiths on pilgrimage to lands of smoke and shadow
gone over rain-starved and broken roads
robed in the night sky, hooded by the moon
the doors behind are left open
Through to the valley of promised light
down winding paths against sanity’s edge
follow those voices that whisper in the dark
of a city in the trees ahead
where sleep plays god among the shadows
Traveller, walk with us across this plane
See to the watchtower over desert seas
the coming of a stillness wrought from flame
Robe yourself in silk and shadow
and find solace at the end of a lonely path
The rest is left behind there on the road
and already lost among the trees
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Photo by Bee Felten-Leidel on Unsplash
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