BEDE’S BIRD

In my sixtieth year I finally awoke

and found myself lost and alone 

at the edge of a dark forest—

I know there is a light in there 

that is not some residual glow 

of my synapses or senses dying—

I know it is you my love, my savior, 

my last stay against the darkness, 

and I know that light is your love

and your faith that will never cede— 

Hold on a bit longer, dearest one, 

for I will find my way back to you.

I will enter the dark forest of myself, 

and altering Bede’s parable will arrive 

from the storms within to you without.