The Escape

Inaccessible mountaintop
How can I scale you?
Even standing on tiptoe
I cannot reach you.

The honey’s gone bitter,
For lack of freedom.
I eat it, but I gag.
How blind I’ve been!

I kept silent;
I cast myself down, lower than the earth,
I became as ashes
Bereft of fire...

The tree-trunk I clung to
Was rotten,
And even my sleep
Grew labored.

If overhead
The sky is cloudy
The sun will surely shine again.

I am waiting
For him to draw nearer,
But he keeps urging me
To speak!