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Open Poetry #34
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A Gentle Flowing Stream... or life revisited
| Open Poetry #34 |
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A Gentle Flowing Stream... or life revisited |
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Tim Senior Member
since 1999-06-08
Posts 1794 |
A lightning’s strike on mountain high, Up near the great divide, Where aspens quake and eagles fly, And only gods reside. A fire flares and timber burns, Flows flame as ocean’s tide From the heights down to the valley, Consuming mountain’s side. Across the valley to the hills, Beneath mount’s smoky shadows, To where a stream without a name, In ceaseless gurgle flows. A once proud oak which stood so tall, Beside the stream now burns An acorn falls from flaming tree, And to the soil returns. Once green hills devoid of life, But yet small stream flows on, As a clearing rain falls through the night, In advance of coming dawn. Beside a gently flowing stream, In Helios’ warming glow, A sapling oak breaks through the soil, New life begins to grow. I find myself in rolling hills, As spring is in the air, Reflecting on a life to be, With mate I soon will pair. A rising sun from out the east, Spreads forth its warming glow, While up ahead a slender oak Beside a stream's calm flow. I've never been this way before, No path to lead the way, As walk along this nameless stream, And greet the coming day. Beneath oak's limbs, white patch of snow, Remains of winter past, Protected by tree's greening boughs, Within its shadows cast. I stop to rest beside small oak, And gaze in awe around, At the beauty of the hills; Feel nature's grace abound. I know within, the time will come, Before our final day, My loving wife, within my arms, Beneath oak tree will lay. I walk along a flowing stream, So small it has no name, No footprints in the sand ahead, And none from whence I came. On distant hill the columbine, Beneath the setting sun, Many miles I've walked alone, Soon will my day be done. Up ahead a speading oak, Lies just beyond the bend, With weary legs I seek its shade, My journey will then end. Beneath the boughs of beauteous tree, She lies in peaceful sleep, I placed her there so long ago, So God would ever keep. I made a bed amongst the leaves, And lay her gently there, Held her close in love's embrace, Last touched her silken hair. A nameless stream flows down the hill, Beside majestic tree, Beneath its boughs we sleep tonight, For all eternity. A lightning’s strike on mountain high, Up near the great divide, Where aspens quake and eagles fly, And only gods reside... |
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| © Copyright 2004 Tim - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Copperbell Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956 |
A beautiful poem, such tender words and wisdom |
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Krawdad Member Elite
since 2001-01-03
Posts 2597 |
If I could be a tree . . . |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
how splendid! |
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