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Open Poetry #47
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Introspection
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Introspection |
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Word Weaver Member
since 2011-03-06
Posts 437California, USA 
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"Introspection" Winding roads through miles of land where no man has cut down trees to build his dwelling so fine. Feeling as though no one has ever walked here before virgin land untrod by man in his quest for adventure. There’s peace to be found here where wildlife still roam freely amongst tall pines, in shady valleys. Chancing upon a trickling brook pausing to wonder to where it travels, from whence it came. The air is pure and cleanses the senses as I listen to the quiet a sound unlike any other. Back into the world endowed with a different perspective a deeper insight creating a longing for more of that which is as yet unspoiled. © Marcia Miller-Twiford |
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| © Copyright 2012 Marcia Miller-Twiford - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Man. The evil on earth. ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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Word Weaver Member
since 2011-03-06
Posts 437California, USA |
You got that right Jerry. |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
Your poem reminds me of the mountains I used to hike around in when I lived on the West coast. Timeless treasures. |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Yeah, it is really too bad that you live in a comfortable house built of things evil man has dug from the ground and taken from the forests. You know, when I was a youngster in Junior High School, that would be in the early fifties, the paper mill where my father worked harvested pine trees from the forest and even back in those neanderthal days they replanted pine sapling each year for the pines they had harvested. Man can be evil, but they can also be caring, Marcia . . . ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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Klassy Lassy Member Elite
since 2005-06-28
Posts 2187Oregon |
I would love to walk in a forest retreat, to feel nature whisper and the sun cast lace through the leaves, or feel the ocean wipe my footsteps off her shores, as if to say, keep it clean. There is something precious and primitive about these small journies. There are places near my home where the habitat is so remote, it may well be that no one has gone there for hundreds of years until just recently when a group of people took their lives in their hands to explore it. I shall remain on civilized ground, but there are echoes of creation that make me marvel, and I get this from your poem. Lovely write! |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Thank you, dear Marcia, for taking me along on this trip into this wonderful world, unaltered by men. Nothing compares to the deep pleasure of inhaling Mother Earth's breath where it flows unhindered. Exquisite work. Margherita  |
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Word Weaver Member
since 2011-03-06
Posts 437California, USA |
Jerry - I know people can be kind - I'm one of them. |
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