Uncertain Seeker

When I raise up my eyes
to night-worn sky,
and try to read some sign
left graven, there,
what would you have me see,
revealed in fire?

Should I look, rather, down,
to cold, rough stones
enshrined, before my gaze,
hoping they hold
some rune to guide me home,
though so long lost?

I trust no messages,
or oracles.
I seek no map, or chart,
drawn in vain stars.
Let Night refuse to speak
when words mean nought.

© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

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