Homage to Nature

An abandoned cottage holds remnants of secrets unexplored. the past ~ whispers ~ through a creaky wooden floor. Vestiges in gossamer, drape window frames and doors through tainted panes of glass the scent of meadow soars. Woody stems and vines cling to crumbling walls shadows peeling back memories I recall: the oracle Sycamore a hostel to a swinging rope, like a pendulum timed in perpetual stroke. Gazing on orchards of fruited trees romanced by busy droning bees nomadic tribes of wide - eyed deer forage and drink the creek so clear cascading toward the river that lies beyond the bend, a cloistered Heron in Cattails, a protracted pose transcends; leaning in a mantra of spiritual grace, resonates the thrum in a humble sacred place. echoes of song birds harmonize in the morn endowed in devotion, awaken the dawn. Mother Nature’s rhythmic beat a faithful promise; she will repeat.