As I stroll
Breezes blow
Whispering echoes
From long ago
A simpler life
Or so we're told
Eat, sleep, harvest
Times of old
Overload's toll
In this modern age
So much to do
Progress's gauge
Fulfillment's gap
Wider grows
With each new toy
To ease our woes
Breath doth sigh
One cannot miss
What has not been
Nor yet exists
Lucky the warbler
From twigs and grass
She twines her nest
As in ages past
Slow our pace
Heed her voice
Purl, weave, rest
A simpler choice
march 16, 2008
judithpiper
***
I enjoy sitting upon a mountain ridge and listening. Often I hear the wind as it approaches. And then I feel it kiss my cheeks. My thoughts wonder, bask, and dive into Zephyr's touch and voice.
There are many voices in the wind. Some speak of past. Others of future. All of the gift, the present. May we heed their lessons more and more.
This poem was written after a day hiking around The Saddle.
***
