A Mothers Decree

Kneeling on a weathered rock Near top of treeless hill. Where silent wings of hunting hawk Ride the winds of higher still. Distanced stands the tree line. Their shadowed tops are seen below. A breath of air gives hint of Pine. The watchful deer move to-and-fro. The sky above holds depth in blue. Fading slow - but holds no smear. To reach for it yields no clue That a touch of sky exists so near. A cardinal calls from far away. There’s distant hammering beak-to-wood. Faint chattering’s of a squirrel at play. The caw of crow - then there it stood. Beyond the trees and down the valley Stands the bridge to town. The road now empty - cannot see - Through trees and rolling ground. Beneath the bridge a stream runs free. It’s crystal waters now run clear. The world around to hear and see. It's been a swift retreat to yesteryear. In the town that lay down yonder The steam pipes now run dry. Smokeless stacks to ponder Against a flawless sky. The Cardinal and the beak-to-wood When at a distance seldom heard. The stream where once I stood Slid murky and disturbed. Seems Mother Earth grew angry. She’s been moaning with a tilt. She has forced her loud decree, “Just stop it … … Now be still..!” By: Shadow Seeker May 2020