Men Whose Hearts Are Sleeping in Wood

You may not believe what I say,
But these are not four trees, no matter
What appearances they give while sleeping.
Four old men now stand rooted in dreams,
No longer striding, they wait for warm rain
To awaken hope for new life.
It was tragic what happened at sunset one eve,
Sages still tell of the time when the four
Raised gnarled arms as though pleading,
Refused to speak of the greed in their bones….
Winds of the nation destroyed their hollow hearts,
Made wooden their chance to walk or talk.
On dark nights you can hear their blistering cries,
Warning the living not to stand on the ground,
To never keep your feet planted for too long.
If ever you feel a chill in the air; if ever the mountains
Speak of a lingering sleep in refusal of truth—
Then walk, then run to the shifting fields,
Love the naked reflection you see in warm fire,
Swim in cold waters of spring from the well.
Awaken!  Awaken your heart while still time,
Lest anger be blurred by the age that surrounds.
Compel your feet to keep walking.
Keep open the heart; keep seeking for truth.
There is no reason for fear in good greening spring,
Have faith in the song that you hear,
Flowing it comes from deep rivers of Earth,
Believe in your dreams that keep you alive.


One thought on “Men Whose Hearts Are Sleeping in Wood

  1. “Believe in your dreams that keep you alive.”
    So true. In my life dreams have given me hope. What a life without hope? Dead wood waiting to be cast into the fire.

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