The map

The map

There is an undrawn map
           that led me to you
out of the dense wood
           where bluebells grow
where holly is thick
           with succulent berries
where the ivy clings
           to elm and ash and birch
perhaps a map in the stars
           but I can’t be sure

I have seen so many
           different trees and birds
and mountains and rivers
           and heard so many
different songs
           and held in my hand
flowers that wanted
           only for water
and a little sunshine
           I have crossed fields
and oceans and travelled
           through day and night
and all the time I sensed
           that there was a map
and that I was being drawn
           ever closer to you and here
after so many years
           finally I am

John Lyons


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