Path

The night is quiet and the fires are silent,
A wind blows away the itinerant storm.
Directionless once, but now I can orient

My mind against what’s waning, absent;
I can give each feeling the subtlest form.
The night is quiet and the fires are silent,

My feet are slow, but the earth is patient,
I follow the heart like a compass worm.
Directionless once, but now I can orient

Out from my thought's divided quotient,
The depleted house, the blossoming home.
The night is quiet, and the fires are silent,

And I know all earthly life is transient,
But wherever I tread, I’ll never do harm.
Directionless once, but now I can orient

My steps towards what’s latent, salient -
Though night is still, and the stars undrawn.
Directionless once, but now I can orient
A path towards an earthless gradient.


                                   - Judith Beveridge