Poem 079 Through these olive groves

11 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, No Comments.

Poem 079 Through these olive groves


Through these olive groves and citrus trees,
from the hills of Galilee to the apocalyptic vistas of the Dead Sea,
the wind I’m told whisper prophesies…… But,
the fox comes running to the rabbit’s scream,
take my shadow and see that it does not follow me into my dreams”

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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