POEM
In Bed Beneath the Stars
Once upon a time in the lost thoughts of a reader, a painter, and a traveler
In bed beneath the stars
I think of what I’ve done
In novels, poems and songs
Through pages I have spun
I journeyed through the West
Met natives, beasts, and warriors
Got lost inside a wardrobe
Met beavers, wolves, and centaurs
I sat beside a dying girl
With careful folds and wishes
I sat beside a fallen guard
With broken swords and stitches
I’ve voyaged far in tales
With heroes, foes, and crooks
I think of what I’ve done
In tomes of worlds and books
In bed beneath the stars
I think of what I’ve seen
In paintings new and old
Through artists’ works and dreams
I saw a starry night
And pain on angel’s eyes
I watched an earless man
Who fell and yet he tries
I saw a cross of old
And servants saved from sin
I saw a teaming stream
And gardens bright and green
I’ve gazed upon these works
In canvass, frames and walls
I think of what I’ve seen
Like bright unending halls
In bed beneath the stars
I think of where I’ve been
In mountains, lakes, and caves
To live what once were dreams
I dreamed of highest peaks
Of provinces about
I walked their paths of pines
And hugged their trees and routes
I met a legend brave
Who marked me with her ink
A serpent eagle’s wings
A crab’s exploring wink
I’ve wandered where I can
And lived out many lore
I think of where I’ve been
As this soul thirsts for more
In bed beneath the stars
I think of more to come
Of things I’ve not yet seen
Of homes I’ve not yet gone
For God is mystery
And He has more than I
Of purposes and grace
Of plans both far and nigh
And so, as I remember
These things of long ago
I also wonder more
Of all I’m meant to know
And when I close a book
And paint the stars around
When back on trails I walk
I’ll go to where I’m bound
