Pathless Woods

    Tonight the pathless woods direct my feet.
    I’m swallowed up, and cloistered from the world,
    all acrimonies of the day have swirled
    among the distant shadows to retreat.

    While rosaries of stars are crossing by,
    beneath their silver laces I am bound
    in abeyance; my supine hands are found
    still open when the dawn reins in the sky.

    Then feathered clouds, half-dipped in henna red,
    will surely amplify my empty sighs;
    with certitude rekindled in my eyes,
    by flower-bells of morning I’ll be led.