Hunger

You walk

Across the meadows

Across the streams

Across the overgrown trail

Crisscrossing the rocky mountainside.

You climb

To the summit

The crest

The next verse

Of the poem of your life.

You run

To catch the light

To grasp the stars

Towards the melody

Of the lute at night.

You see

The barrenness of miles.

You hear

The whimper of silence.

You  do not hear

The furtive voices

of the other side.

You do not feed

The hunger of your soul,

The hunger of your heart,

The abject infinity

Of the hunger

Of the arms stretched wide.