Wilderness

Dark and oppressive.
Lush and beautiful or
dry as ancient bones.
This is the wilderness,
a place without sky or sun,
full of twisted pathways,
or no paths at all.

Do not be deceived.
Every wilderness has an end.
The sun lives in wait
for your emergence.

About this poem

When people ask me how do I choose subjects to preach about, I tell them the truth – that mostly I preach to myself. It’s kind of the same with writing poetry.

But despite the strident voices we hear, we are more alike than different. Preach to ourselves and we often touch others.

The photograph was taken in Cornwall, England.

Tom