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Poem

What drives the hermit to his cave?
The same thing that drives him out

Need

Though he is the most austere sort,
living on berries and other wild things

His dreams are human dreams

Not to build castles or collect treasure
but to be whole and feel at peace

Foraging for daily sustenance
Hearing the whisper of life clearly

No distractions but those of innocent animals
gathering with him from dawn to dusk

Recreating fire only when needed for warmth
Not fearing the dark because God is in that as well

But sometimes watching the dancing flames
is reason enough to put spark to wood.

A life of contemplation is not 
as easy as it may seem

The heart often pulls at him 
to participate in the joining of humanity

Can it really be better to be alone?
Is anyone really better or alone?

He holds no contempt for those
who let their every need distract them

He views their folly with the same
humor as he views his own

But to hear Gods voice clearly
as He moves through the trees

Finding no need of covering
besides the clothes God provided

Sleeping in a bed of moss
covered only by the night air

Trusting- ever trusting in
in the light of a new day

When each day ends 
there is only one concern

With whom should he share 
his tribulation and triumph

and why

Who could appreciate the babbling brook,
the rustling leaves,
the mirror lake moved by the winds touch?

The songs, the many songs
sung with abandon

The moans of hunger and contentment
the sighs of "all is well"

Nature contends with the heart
when every spring comes

The joys of joining beckon

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