If Nature can’t come
Rare should Nature come to my house
I would go, my dream fires to douse.
Rivers can’t come to me,
I’ll go there them to see,
Swim if I can or not, no grouse.
Mountains high, small hills, lakes, meadows,
Countless trees and sun and shadows…
Farmers in nature’s care,
Fragrant forests so fair,
None will come in care of my cause.
They work hard in natural rhyme,
I’ll go, for I respect their time
And will keep going there
My diffidence to dare,
Not in spare time, in time so prime.
If Nature can’t come to my house,
I’ll have to go-- this home-held mouse
Pay homage as it were
And clear years of false air,
Call ‘tis of heart, of head nor nous.
_________________________
Musings | 02.12.2025 | adventure, freedom, house, nature, limerick
Note: Watching a river water filled in a bottle is no substitute to going out to a freely flowing river amidst nature. Man seems to have castled him in a bottle of circumstances, still pretending to sing a song of freedom. To snap this imagined shackle with which man ties him in knots, he must go out to meet Nature. Here is that song of freedom. Only when man learns to be with Nature, he will learn to respect it.
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