The Hunt

What is this idea of a perfect love?

In what hidden place does he so cleverly reside?

Where is this perfect love that is found within me?

In what corner of my heart does he so cleverly hide?

How does he appear?.. I ask..

Who can describe this tenant that I might require that he show himself ?

Instead he taunts from his reclusive place with fleeting images without a trace.

Yet he shows not his face to me,

nor does his presence nourish me.

I will hunt him down with dogs..if they will hunt!

Still they bark and sniff but he is not dislodged.

I will command to no avail.

And all is silenced beneath the clatter of the hunt;

Torrents washed this fateful trail.

And so I am still here astride my steed.. prepared to hunt..

And yet… there is no track or trace

to lead me to this hiding place.

cbruce