Outcast

[Rani Zemirah]

Outcast

This poem was written about my friend Homeless John, as he was called at the time, but it's also written about the outcast in all of us.


Child of the shadow
On the fringe
Running
When it gets too close
Too... tight
The massive hand of humanity
Closing on your throat
Houses, concrete, fences, bars
They're all afraid of you

You...
With the crystal eyes and shining soul
Of a hero in a book
And so, with sadness, anger, suspicion
You run
Shadow dancing down the road
And into the arms of the Mother
Where timeless mountain meadows
Laced with shaded, icy streams
Offer Life
And Spirit food
Here you stand erect
Face the sun
And bow only to the Universe
Whose endless spinning wheel of stars
Guards your sleep and eases your dreams
Here you drink Peace
Like wine
And quiet binds your wounds
And heals your soul
Child of the Mother
The birds sing your name
And the deer have your scent
They see you as you are
And they are not afraid

Rest
Restore yourself
Renew your strength of Spirit
For the battles yet to come
Unwilling Warrior
You hear the siren song of Chaos
And you cannot stay for long
Gently
With hope, regret, frustration
You pick up your life
Turn away
And step
Softly
Into the shadow
Perhaps, when you come this way again
There will be no need to leave


© Wendy E.