Lie Like a Fox

I wither
in the heat of this sun,
bound like a poor slave
and unable to steer my way
onto a peaceful path
where cool shadows of ferns
and flowers whisper relief.

The lobe of my ear waits
patiently for patient truth to guide me
toward the light of home.

I am listening for the joy of birds
but there is no rest in the night
for the fox has stirred all the branches
with his rough and hungry mind.