A Whisper From The Woods Poem by Arthur H Rowley

I heard a whisper from the woods
taught me more than kindness could
your name, they said, is lawless proof
of life unlived and mind uncouth
they told me what you ought to be
while sat beneath a burning tree
a tale to come, as yet unfurled
will push the outskirts of your world
if given chance to see it all
the art you make could long enthral
to know your home and place at last
could leave your horrors in the past

A pity, then, that you belong
not in the mass of ocean song
nor in the lore of man or god
the bible rich who walk unshod
not in the timelessness of youth
may age beguile a man of truth
your place, I fear, could not be found
with blossom trees and rolling ground
nor city lit with blistered light
in forecast of a coming night
so what could you intend to find?
no cliff face nor a peaceful mind
awaits beyond this troubled wild
you are your mothers only child
artists though you both may be
and shown more than you wish to see
but past remains outside our grasp
hear the future, thick and rasp

If home you are to be without
through mind of mist and heart of doubt
then travel, be alone or with me
find the fight in feeling free
the art will only age with time
of which we have a steady line
it's in us not in where we go
I know, the woods have told me so.