LONE FOX
A brave little fox sits alone;
Independent and on his own.
A sign of truth and power,
A peaceful dark and silent thunder shower.
Venture on, yes he must;
A bitter-sweet trail of musky dust.
Hush; his thoughts grow loud;
A remote speck of wonder increasing the sound.
Forward he goes, toward a distant plain;
Content is his will; a mighty creature is trained.
Dark amongst the horizon sits still;
A lone tree and cool winds of a chill.
A moments thought, in his world of concern;
Such a tree, powerfully, and knowledge to learn.
From there Lone Fox moves on;
Steered by the dreams, and memories, as one.
He never stands still, how ambitious he is;
A worthy creature he knows, a small world is his.
At first light he can see where his dreams told him to be;
A plateau it is, not what his mind at dark let him see.
So high up near the clouds lies the levelest grounds;
It's his quest to go on, the one who bested the hounds.
Up he climbs with incredible pace;
He roughens his grip, and licks his dusty face.
No rocks tumble down, protected by God.
This cliff is his; he's mastered its ways.
It is dusk at the top while he waits;
He needs rest, he is weak, and his little heart aches.
Adventure is he, for he knows it quite well;
His ears perk and he looks at the sky when I yell.
He is part of me as I am of him;
A final call, it grows dark, and my heart grows dim.
There he lies, a symmetrical dream;
His emotions flow through in a stream.
Up on his hill, he bravely remains;
He knows your emotions are locked up in chains.
Lone Fox is the one who is free;
Are you not? He knows why you can't be.
He is free for facing his fears at a near,
He has won and it shows in a single bold tear.
He has followed his hopes and his dreams far along;
At ease he can rest, and wonder, and sing the sweet song.
A dream, a memory, only he knows the way;
Remember a tree; knowledge learned in a day.
Forever he's kept this moment alive;
Uncertain he is, how much more he must strive.
His goal has been met, so he helps us get through;
A wish, a wonder, he'll let be done by you.
Just listen for this peace that grows true in all;
The wise tree grows on top, a soft wind is its call.
© Thomas Sweet 1996