The Hermit

The Hermit

 

 

I had to come here, to this place where time stands still.

As the sun rises, life is given to this old hill.

The colors of fall unveil a beauty no brush can paint.

Here even a child like me feels like a saint.

 

I came here confused and alone

A doubting man without a home

Time had taken its’ toll on me

Yet here I am able to set my soul free

 

To those who have never witnessed this place

I am just an old man with a withered face.

Yet it is they who age alone in life

I am the child basking in the light.

 

I am not judged by what I have done or own

The emptiness of pain I no longer know

I am not struggling for that gift of peace

God has granted that wish for me.

 

So do not look upon me with pity or shame.

What right do you have when you’re a moth to a flame?

I am at one with my soul and he

There is no place on earth I would rather be.

 

By Brian K. Walters