this room of many memories
this house of journeying.
above the trees I watch
the rain blowing over
the valley,
a chorus of tiny drummers
rings out from the patio roof,
the sound of water
as it splashes onto the sandstone pathways.
I am here, alone,
alone in this place where isolation,
once upon a bad time ago,
sent me packing;
an adventure of chaos,
misundestandings, misdemeanors and madnesses.
I am here again, my home among the trees,
and my soul, rested and repaired by island solitude,
is peaceful and quieted.
The truth has come to stay,
the mirror is clear
somewhere within the deep of me
i have found myself.