The Seeker

I will tramp the hills, the bottom lands, explore the river's way
Until I take into my hand the life of another day
Dark face that broods beside the flickering fire
Return and speak through carved moods of need and of desire

Return to me the field of corn, the deer's long leap, the hawk's shrill cry
The implements of thong and horn, the spirit in the wind's low sigh
Establish in my blood and mind the courtesy of love
That guards my search before, behind, for life at far remove