A poem

Sleepless night abandoned love,
Ghost of solitude in rest,
Forward to the sky above,
Over hills and yonder west,
Found beneath a old dead tree,
The writings from Gallilee ,
Parchment held in my cold hands,
Stories from the distant sands,
As I look up I see a bird,
Across the waves his voice is heard,
There is path you cannot know,
Despite how you now feel so old,
There is hope within the heart,
So close to bone within the dark,
There is love on whispered winds
There lies freedom
Angels sing,
Again my pain is used for words
Again my plight seem so absurd,
But I will not rest until,
I find a way,
The soil to till.

Joseph Blake Tokyo 2018