A Refugee From Modernity

My campfire illuminates the scattered stones of the chapel ruin. Conjuring contorted shadows who swell like mighty hands Proclaiming the insanity of the divine. Tobacco and tea is all I need beneath the tapestry of the stars, I say " good night" to shuffling cattle and cantankerous insects And declare darkness as a friend, soothing ,forgiving A keeper of empty promises, Seeking clarity I have fled to the mountains To escape from the acquisition of things , I need to expunge , to cleanse illusions of the mind, A forlorn song of wayward bird Carries on the breeze I sleep in the stillness of a silent night.