A Hermit's Knowledge
waking the sleeping child
A HERMIT’S KNOWLEDGE Bottomless, the words don’t come Buried deep within my heart A child lies sleeping Clinging to the center of her world. Lulled by familiar rhythms She dreams of being discovered Awakened by the muse of speech Announcing herself with a small voice. If only she could be heard Above the blowing wind, the falling rain The sounds of life that surround her Overwhelming her resolve to reveal the truth. I wander on silent roads Carrying a candle to light the way I untie the ribbons in my hair, And let it fall free, Signaling that I am wild with purpose. Bare with emotion, possessed of meaning I dare to unearth the rare connections, Beyond language, beyond touch, The answers we seek within ourselves. My hermit’s knowledge is too fine For coarse minds and heavy spirits, For those who travel in crowds It burns instead of soothes. There are many who retreat I am invisible, inconsequential I am forced back into my corner Where I have everything I need. © 2026 Stephanie M. Vargo