Serenity set camp within sanctuaries in plain sight.
Yet sometimes it’s hard to find.
Akin to the eyes of storms, they are calm amidst the chaos.
The weary traveler checks in, and leaves without a sound
Lured away by the lull of the road.
A sirens song sang from a car wreck.
A weathered fool washed the dust off in the camp
And roots grew in the mud.
Sapling tree of life.
All who will enter the camp will eat freely of the its fruits
Should they stay to see it bear.
The fool grows alongside the sapling
Yet he still wonders
What dreams enthrall sleeping giants and martyrs?