Strange Lands
(The Astoundment)
 
 Strange lands had never bothered me before:
 All the voiceless tongues and the lifeless eyes
 Bearing the Truths that I had assumed were lies.
 (I'd rejected the Burden another Man had borne.)

 "But winter is a fierce time of year," I recalled,
 And there was a tempting chill in my words that enthralled 
 Whatever senses I had left in me,
 Despite the depths of my false Honesty.

 "But winter is a fierce time of year," I said again.
 "Yes, winter is a fierce time of year," I heard replied.
 "One must always be prepared," I grinned.
 "Yes, one must always be prepared," He sighed.

 And perhaps it is I will never know
 The Grace that reminds the grass to grow
 In Spring, despite the Winter's chore.
 (Oh, strange lands did not bother me before.)