Lavender dreams in my wake
Which direction doth I take?
Sage dons my fearless guide,
Abreast with fears I must abide.

Rivers of doubt and streams of fear,
Flowing meadows of white tail deer.
In doth the darkest dampest loam,
Blooms the brightest from the gloam.

In my head dost voices chime,
Weary and full of dismal rhymes.
Prickly prose arise from deep within,
Despite the garish worldly din.

Hope bestrides a feather in my hat,
Words dost flow and weave a path.
For where’er it may lead,
Trust begets a mighty steed.

Somber embers doth shine bright,
We endeavor through thy fight.
Accept thine serenity,
With peace and graceful clarity.