Saturday, September 17, 2005

Scratch a Poet, find a ...

Work of the Trees

The children came to dance beneath the trees,
to laugh and tumble in the rusting leaves,
and learn of simple life by Nature's touch.

Then they grew tall, broad and long of hair,
and knowledge was seized like a stolen pear
while the wisdom of flowers was trampled.

As men and women they forgot to sing,
of such natural truths that wonders bring,
and their spirits withered in sad decay.

Yet some still heard the laughing leaves of dawn
and became shaman, wizard, seer and crone,
and rekindled the spark of innocence.

They live where what was, is what now will be,
nurturing powers drawn from memory,
for within yourself is rebirthing Light.

Living challenge will dictate 'what to do',
but 'how to do' must be found within you,
each by each to wonder where ever when.



At 8:47 AM, Blogger Vi Jones said...

A wonderful piece, faucon, and so true. Most of us do forget and lose the wonder of the child. This would be a far better world if we all remembered.


At 2:26 PM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

I read this as an affirmation of the path I am on. Wonderful words to guide me.


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