Tolkien Sestina I

Tolkien Sestina I
12-17-02
Robin Reid

I am not sure what peril
lies beyond these hills. The road
winds from fields of green
into the blue. I travel
past stone and brook, by tree
and barn, as above a star

rises. Unsure of the name of this star
I dream of the unknown, the peril
from staying too long under one tree
or not straying from the road.
The joy of discovery lies in travel
not arriving, changes keeping the world green.

The spring arrived changing brown to green
and I saw a new and brighter star
calling me to leave my home and travel
no matter what peril
comes. The grass growing new beside the road
pulled me away from where I lie beneath this tree

called me forward to find the gold and silver trees
that lie east of the sun and west of the moon. The green
track flies from this world to the next, a road
that takes me beyond and under the sea, following the star
that floats ahead, claimed by a mariner as he sailed into peril,
a journey from life to death, a road I dare not travel.

When I left my home to travel
I thought to journey a short time, so short the tree
would lose its leaves only once. But peril
makes a journey long, time cycles from green
to brown endlessly and I see the star
grow old before my eyes as the road

disappears. I ask to what end this road
will lead me, ask why I spend my life in travel.
In blackest night, the beauty of this white star
is clear, but the memory of the sunlit tree
in my back yard calls me away, green
and welcoming, shielding me from peril.

This grass grown road I loved takes me from that tree.
No longer will I travel if by chance I return to the green
home, safe under my star and far from peril.