my map

lurking in the dusty corners of my mind
hidden secrets of the past do i find
skulking in the jungle where shadows prey
in the realm in which i once would play

in such a forest i’d be lost
and by her rapids wildly tossed
living off fruits and sacred sap
save for my precious oh my map

great trees like tomes from which we’d shred
vital blood of which they’d bled
each leaf a page I’d read
without their wisdom I’d be dead

within this forest she’d provide
my map ever present be my guide
words of wisdom she had said
planted like seeds within my head

within this forest every need supplied
my map now absent be my guide
tales and legends we had read
echoed like stones words unsaid

within this forest would i hide
my map though vacant be my guide
from its manna i made my bread
trees of the forest be my bed

ten thousand pages in the past
every breath lived like my last
still hear the echoes of our repast
quick like a blast fade too fast

every page has its number
within every book pruned asunder
looking back my only wonder
what brilliant spell was i under

within this jungle again i stand
through many a strange and distant land
not a word nor page had been planned
my trusted map still in hand

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About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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